


Sith of Beacon Hills

by ract46



Series: Pack Master [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, BDSM, Character Death, Ignored Safeword, M/M, Mpreg, abdl!Isaac, alpha!Derek, crossdressing!Jackson, dom!stiles, fae!Stiles, non-canon, painpuppy!Scott, pet!Matt, slave!Aiden, sub!Isaac, sub!Jackson, sub!Scott, sub!ethan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 88,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ract46/pseuds/ract46
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and the pack continue with their lives unaware of Peter Hale's return, as The Queen's Charming Death, and the danger and havoc he will unleash upon them.</p><p>This story is a sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1027424/chapters/2045610">Protecting a submissive Pack</a></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <img/><br/></p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbeta'd and all mistakes are my own.

** Four Months Previously **

 

**_ He had no right.  He shouldn’t have benched him, not for the whole season; not just because he lost his temper.  It wasn’t right, and he shouldn’t have done it. _ **

 

The words run around Liam’s head like a mantra, getting louder and louder until he can’t perceive any other thought; the words inflaming his anger until it combusts and needs an outlet.  The angry roar of voices yelling ‘ _put the crowbar down_ ’ is the first he realises he’s not in his room anymore, and he’s holding a crowbar.

 

He’s standing in the middle of the road; the car in front of him, parked at the kerb, is his coach’s car.  The roof is bashed, the windows smashed, the hood, trunk, and doors have been battered and scratched.  The words ‘ _THIS IS YOUR FAULT_ ’ etched into metal across the two doors on the passenger side.

“Put the crowbar down!” the officer’s voice commands once again; he turns to face them with a snarl, the anger rising once again.  One of the officers has a hand on his weapon.

“ **You don’t know…** ” Liam shouts at them, his fist shaking as his grip tightens on the bar.

“No, I don’t know,” the younger officer says, the one not going for his weapon, the one that has been doing all the talking, “Why don’t you put the crowbar down and tell me?”  The officer holds his arms out, nothing in his hands as he steps towards him.  His hand coming to rest gently on Liam’s shoulder.

 

Liam drops his gaze from the warmth of the officer’s eyes; his grip on the crowbar lessening until it slips from his hand, and the anger he feels dampening in the face of the concern in the officer’s voice.  The feeling that his actions have disappointed the man.

 

** Now **

 

As he lies on his bed Liam isn’t sure why that particular memory surfaced.  The officer’s face, the warmth of his hand on his shoulder, and sound of strength in his voice as talked with him; all memories that have fuelled his jack-off fantasies for the last four months.  And as a fifteen year old boy that’s a lot of fantasies.  Fantasies that he hasn’t even told his best friend Mason about, even though he knows that Mason is gay and wouldn’t care; it’s just that these thoughts he has about other guys – mostly that officer, but sometimes Brett Talbot – usually involve him being dominated by them, being held down and forced to obey them, or used like a toy for their pleasure.

 

But for all those times he’s never thought on how he looked down, how he felt that he had disappointed the man – a complete stranger – and that _it mattered to him_ what this officer thought.

 

He’s never seen the officer since, and now he supposes never will.  They’ve moved house and now live in Beacon Hills.  He got kicked out of school too, so he’s gonna be attending the local high school.  

 

Would Officer Parrish be even more disappointed in him?  Would he take him over his knee and spank him, raising a heat in his ass as it reddens under the officer’s attentions, for getting himself in so much trouble?  His breathing becomes laboured as the thought makes him pull faster and harder on his cock, the head wet with the arousal he feels as he thinks about the officer holding him down over his knee while his hand lands hard and often on his naked ass.  With a shout he sprays his release over his abs and chest with force.  He normally lasts longer than that, and he’s never had that particular kind of thought before.  Not that he’s gonna dwell on it, he needs to get some sleep and can think about what thinking of Officer Parrish spanking him means some other time.

 

 

Jordan Parrish woke with a start.

 

While he had sometimes wondered what had happened to the boy that he had caught trashing his teacher’s car during his last shift at his old precinct, he had never had those kind of thoughts.  And as a twenty-four year old Deputy he should not be having those kind of thoughts about an _underage_ boy who is only fifteen year olds.

 

Until that night when he met Liam Dunbar there was no emotion he felt at leaving his old territory; except perhaps the excitement he felt at what awaited him in Beacon Hills.  And that twinge of regret that crept into him that night was unexpected.  But something was drawing him here, and it wasn’t until he arrived that he found out what it was.

 

His parents had never hidden the fact that they weren’t human from him.  His mom was half human and half fae; she had some healing gifts, and despite aging slower than a human she was still very mortal.  A fact that lead to his mom’s escape from the Unseelie court after the Morrigan tried to kill her; to stop her contamination and weakening of the powers of the Unseelie Court with her mortality.  Having escaped the court she was lost in Arcadia, which is where she met his father.  With his help she escaped to this realm, and together they built a life for themselves; hiding in the mortal world.

 

He has never shown any signs of being anything other than human – despite neither of his parents being human.  There are things he has in common with his parents.  He has his mother’s compassion and desire to help others, and his father’s sense of justice and need to protect those less able to protect themselves.  And he has always been drawn to where he was needed; like the night he met Liam, and being drawn here to Beacon Hills.

 

He knows there is something supernatural related going on in the town – the sacrifices that sheriff was nearly part of to name but one.  He’s not had much interaction with the sheriff’s son, or the people that gather around him, but he feels… **_something_** is going on there.  Whether he and his friends are what the town needs protecting from he doesn’t know; not yet, but he will find out.

 

 

Jackson leans back against the bare chest of the Fae whose lap he is sitting in.  His legs are spread and held back in Ray’s hands; Ethan is on his knees between Jackson’s wide spread legs.  His toes curl in his pale blue stockings as Ray’s hand slips around catching Jackson’s leg in the crook of his elbow, and his fingers pinch at his swollen nipples pulling some of his milk from him.  Jackson can smell and see Ethan’s wanton desire, his eyes blown wide as they lock on to the milk dripping from his nipples, his tongue darting along his lips.

“I bet your little hardness is vibrating in your panties,” Ray’s voice is deep, husky with need, every word dripping with his arousal, “You’re so wet your panties have soaked through to my jeans and made them damp.”

Jackson whimpers at his words, the sound of his voice and the feel of his finger roughly pulling at his nipples.  He held his legs up and apart as his head lolled back onto Ray’s shoulder.

“Our Master says I can fuck you,” Ray’s words send a shiver through him as they ghost over his ear, “He says I should fuck you hard like the pack slut you are, is that true Jackie?”

The name seems disconcerting and momentarily jars against his arousal, but Ray pulls hard on both his nipples, his milk spilling over his chest and he feels the rush of slick from his ass; it’s enough to pull a needy gasp from his lips instead of him asking Ray not to call him Jackie.

“Please,” he begs.

“Please what?” Ray asks him, his tongue flicking over Jackson’s ear.

“Please fuck me, please.”

“Maybe I should take Ethan’s diaper off him and have him try to fuck you first,” Ray teases him, “I’m sure his little cock is hard, just like your little cock.”  Jackson knows that just won’t work; the last time he, Isaac, Ethan and Scott, had played together it didn’t work.  Scott is the only omega in the pack with a cock big enough to fuck with.  And it would be even more difficult for Ethan now with his belly so swollen with the babies.

“No, please, I need…”

His words dies in his throat as Ethan leans over him, keeping his belly from pressing against him, and licking a strip up along his chest takes one of his nipples in his mouth and suckles at it as Ray’s hands slide down his legs and his fingers slip under the fabric of his wet panties and into his open hole.

“Let’s get you nice and wet and open for my cock,” Ray practically growls in his ear.

 

He almost misses the sound of Ray’s zipper being pulled down; the feel of Ethan at his nipples and the fingers thrusting in and out of his ass – he isn’t sure if it’s still Ray’s fingers or Ethan’s – overriding his senses.  He needs something more, he needs…

“Ah,” he gasps as the hard cock slides into him, his legs wrapping around Ethan’s back as Ray lifts him up and slides him back down on his cock.  Ethan’s mouth latched on to one nipple while his fingers tease the other.

His eyes roll back as Ray’s hands grab his ass lifting him slightly off his lap, and he begins in earnest to pound into him, his hips speeding his thrusts faster as he Ray chases his release.  Ethan whines as he is dislodged from feeding at his nipple by the force of Ray’s fucking, and his tongue, lips and teeth chase after their purchase on his swollen nubs.

 

Jackson can feel Ethan’s crotch hunching against his own, pulling them both to their own climax as Ray fucks into his hole with increasing need.  As Ray’s thrusts stutter, his hands grasping at Jackson’s hips and hold him still as he fills him, Ethan’s and Jackson’s own release flows, soaking Ethan’s diaper and Jackson’s already sodden panties.

 

Ethan raises his head to capture Jackson’s mouth with his own.  Their kiss languid and sloppy, as Ray peppers the side of Jackson’s neck with small pecks of his own.

“We should clean up before getting to bed,” the Fae says.

“Sleep,” Ethan sighs against Jackson’s mouth.

“Once I’ve changed your diaper, and we’re cleaned up,” Ray replies with a ruffle of his mate’s hair.

 

 

Aiden rips his shirt off as he runs into the bathroom; something has to have gone wrong, the itching sensation had turned to burning and now nothing.  He turns his back to the mirror and there is nothing there.  He’d been on the bench for four hours while the guy tattooed his upper back.  Now there was nothing there.

“Shit!”

 

“Aiden?  What’s up?” Matt calls to him from the other side of the door.  He half considers replying ‘nothing’, but the changeling seems to know when something is bothering him and he really doesn’t want to hurt his friend’s feelings; he knows Matt needs to feel loved and trusted.  He opens the door and lets him in.

“I got a tattoo,” he whispers, “As a surprise for Master.”

“What? Let me see,” Matt exclaims.

“It’s gone; it healed,” he complains, “I don’t know how…”

“Derek will know,” Matt excitedly calls, “He’s a born werewolf and he has a tattoo.”  He’s out the door before Aiden can stop him.  He runs after the pack pet as he heads towards their alpha.

 

Aiden follows Matt as he bounds into one of the playrooms.

 

Scott is chained to the A frame, his cock hard and jutting out from his body as Derek flogs his back.  Both Scott and Derek are clearly aroused by their scene; their eyes blown wide in lust.  As the flogger thuds against Scott’s back his cock clearly jumps with the spike of his pleasure; his pre-cum leaking profusely as it pools on the floor below him.

Derek growls at their interruption, as Scott hangs limply from his wrists chained to the top of the frame.

“Alpha, Sir,” Matt shouts, “Aiden got a tattoo, but it’s gone.”

“Matt!” Aiden hisses at him.  Their alpha raising an eyebrow at him as he waits for Aiden to explain.

 

 

Jackson is in Ray and Ethan’s bed.  Ethan is on Ray’s right side, lying on his side with the body pillow around him.  Jackson is on the left, he’s used to being in the middle; lying between his mates.  The difference is enough to make it difficult to fall asleep; or maybe it’s just the thoughts going around in his head.

 

He hated it when Ray called him ‘ _Jackie_ ’.  He’s not Jackie, he’s Jackson; and he hates Jackie.

 

She was useful when Stiles first had him dress like that; when he couldn’t admit to himself how much he liked being dressed in the stockings and panties, let alone to his pack.  But the silk and lace feel good against his skin.  The heels highlight the shape of his legs.  And his pack look at him, and he sees the hungry look in their eyes.  He likes that they want him, and that he can give himself to them.  He is a slut for his pack, because he wants to be a slut for his pack.  Whenever Danny or Stiles nibble on his earlobe and call him their ‘ _little slut_ ’ he gets so wet for them.

 

But when he dresses in the clothes he wants to wear – the clothes that get his pack to look at him with that hunger – they think it’s ‘Jackie’.  It’s not Jackie, there is no Jackie, but she is taking his packs affection; taking the love that should be his.  He’s his packs slut, not Jackie.

 

But he can’t dress like he wants, can’t be the slut he is, and be Jackson.  They don’t see him, they see Jackie.  And he hates her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> ### Excerpt from Chapter-02
> 
> Peter looks out the window of the loft he’s taken in town. It was easy to get into the vault and retrieve some of the bearer bonds. He didn’t want to take too many least Derek notice; assuming he even remembers about them.
> 
> The loft is close to the wolves that deserted their duty to the Queen of the Unseelie Court. It allows him to keep an eye on them more easily. Which is more than can be said for his nephew’s pack.
> 
> He knows that they have moved out into the preserve. The derelict burned-out shell of the old house replaced with a new home. Only he can’t find it. He knows where the house was, and therefore where the new one is, but whenever he tries to go there he finds himself back on the edge of the woods; he never reaches the site of the house.
> 
> Clearly the Fae’s Sithen is protecting the location. So he will just need to find another way in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbeta'd and all mistakes are my own.
> 
>   
> 

Derek has chained Aiden face down so that he’s held tightly against the padded bench, and unable to move.  It has Aiden wishing he was not locked in the chastity cage as his cock tries to lengthen behind the metal and pushes painfully against the confining bars.

“Don’t worry,” Derek says, “Your cock will soon lose any desire to harden.”

Only that doesn’t happen when his alpha sits astride his ass, pushing down against his caged cock.  Even with Scott scowling at him for interrupting the flogging Derek was giving him.

 

“Got it,” Matt says running back into the room.  Derek had to send him to the kitchen to retrieve the tool he said might be powerful enough to bring the ink back.  The small blowtorch was normally used to caramelise the sugar on top of a creme brulée, or roasting marshmallows on the top of a mug of hot chocolate.

“Thanks Matt,” Derek says as he takes the implement, “Did you bring the spare canisters of gas?”  Aiden sees Matt nod as he pulls them from his pocket, his tail wagging through the hole cut into the back of his pants at the praise from the alpha.  “Good,” Derek replies.

“You sure you want this made visible to everyone?” Derek asks as he looks at the tattoo through red alpha eyes.

“Yes,” Aiden replies, “I want to show our Master how much he means to me, and how serious I am about my place in the pack.”

“Okay then.”

 

There’s a click, click sound that’s followed by the quiet roar of the flame from the blowtorch.  The sudden feel of the heat and the smell of flesh burning that has him clenching his teeth as he fights to control his instinct to flee from the fire scorching across his back.  The chains, Scott, and Matt holding him down as Derek draws the searing heat across his back.  All too soon he is screaming in agony, and he’s grateful that the playroom is soundproof; no-one else in the Sithen will hear him.  The pain blinds him as his vision whites out before the darkness takes him as he passes out.

 

He’s not sure how long he was out for, but now as he stands in front of the full length mirror looking over his shoulder he can’t stop grinning.  The three lines of text across his upper back clearly visible in thick black lettering.

#### slave aiden  
Property of  
Master Stiles

Aiden is both eager and nervous of showing this to his master in the morning.  He wishes that he could show him now, but Stiles is with Danny and they are not to be disturbed.  He’s not sure he’ll be able to sleep he’s so excited, he just knows it will make his master happy; his master wanted him to make decisions about his life, and he has.

Stiles slides the full thirteen inches of his hard cock into the hollow centre of the tube gag in Danny’s mouth.  He watches as his mate’s throat bulges with the thick shaft filling it, his balls resting on the werewolf’s nose.

 

Danny is lying on his back on the bed; his outstretched arms tied to the posts at the base of the bed and his head hanging over the end.  His cock is hard and leaking over his abs, the precum pooling in his navel.  Stiles knows how much Danny likes his mouth to be used and fucked.  The harder the better.

 

He pulls out slowly, running a thumb over Danny’s nipples; teasing them with his nails before pinching them between his forefinger and thumb as he slides his cock back down Danny’s throat.  He picks up the pace of his thrusts in and out, tweaking and pulling at the bound wolf’s nipples and he fucks his throat; his balls slapping against Danny’s nose with each thrust, Danny’s neck bulging out as he’s filled with the full length of Stiles’ long thick cock.

 

The rhythm of his thrusting begins to falter and he’s falling forward as he pinches hard on Danny’s nipples, his lips close around the head of Danny’s cock and his tongue swirls around the ridge before he slides more of it into his mouth.  He sucks fervently bring Danny over the edge as he unleashes his own release in his mate’s mouth.  Stiles slips out of Danny’s mouth as he pulls back, savouring the taste of him as Danny’s cock falls from his mouth with a ‘plop’.  He kneels beside his mate; unfastening and removing the gag from his mouth before his tongue licks over the seam of his lips and pushes between them as he takes his mouth in a kiss.

 

His arm slips behind Danny’s head and he cradles it as he deepens the kiss, owning Danny’s mouth before reluctantly backing off for air.

“Love you,” he tells the still bound wolf.

“Love you too, Sir,” Danny smiles at him.

Isaac is in the nursery.  The babies are their cot asleep, and he is lying on the couch, cuddling with his stuffed wolf, in a dry diaper that Papi Scott put him in before he and Daddy Derek went to play.  He’s not supposed to think of them as his Papi and Daddy when he’s looking after the babies; he’s supposed to be a big not little.  But he hasn’t been able to be little for ages, and Papi put the diaper on him and Ethan; so he just started thinking little thoughts.

 

He lay on the floor earlier and was colouring in his book, but the pictures were all finished.  When he looked at the wall and saw the picture of a rainbow on it he thought of how big dinosaurs were, with the big long necks, and how its head would pop up over the rainbow.  So he took his crayon and added a dinosaur.  Papi Scott always says he’s good at drawing so hopes him and Daddy Derek finish playing and come back so he can show them.

 

He lets out a yawn and snuggles his wolf to his chest.  His eyes closing over as he waits.

Peter looks out the window of the loft he’s taken in town.  It was easy to get into the vault and retrieve some of the bearer bonds.  He didn’t want to take too many least Derek notice; assuming he even remembers about them.

 

The loft is close to the wolves that deserted their duty to the Queen of the Unseelie Court.  It allows him to keep an eye on them more easily.  Which is more than can be said for his nephew’s pack.

 

He knows that they have moved out into the preserve.  The derelict burned-out shell of the old house replaced with a new home.  Only he can’t find it.  He knows where the house was, and therefore where the new one is, but whenever he tries to go there he finds himself back on the edge of the woods; he never reaches the site of the house.

 

Clearly the Fae’s Sithen is protecting the location.  So he will just need to find another way in.  The Impala is quite a distinctive car, and only one of them has been seen being driven around Beacon Hills.  So it’s been easy to get a handle on the habits of Réamann Mac an Tiarna na Madraí; why do the Fae have to have such god awful unpronounceable names?  And knowing the Fae’s habits gives him a way to reach the pack.

Isaac groaned.  He’d been awake all of five seconds when he remembered what he’d done last night to the nursery wall.

“Fuck!” he cursed, “Why did I do that?”

 

Beside him Scott stirred and cuddled into him, wrapping his arms around him.

“Because Issy was bored, and neither his Daddy, Pappi, nor his brother were around to play with,” Scott comforts him, “But you can help clean the walls today.”

“I was supposed to be looking after the babies,” he quietly whines, “I wasn’t supposed to be little.”

“You clearly needed some ‘little’ time,” Derek says from behind him, kissing the back of his neck, “We need to make sure you get more time to be little.”

“For now we need to go change and feed the babies, clean up the nursery, and then we can finally get showered and dressed for school,” Scott smiles at him, kissing his lips and cheeks as Derek covers his neck and shoulders in light pecks.

“Come on,” Derek finally says, “There are hungry mouths to feed, and dirty diapers to change.”

Jackson walks into the bedroom he shares with his mates after spending the night with Ray and Ethan.  Danny and Stiles are wrapped around each other in the middle of the bed.  He climbs onto the bed, crawling up beside his mates.  Danny stirs, smiling at him.

“Hey, babe, how was your night with Ray and Ethan?”

“Fun,” he smiles back at Danny, but he can’t stop thinking back to the ‘Jackie’ comment and how it had upset him briefly before Ray thoroughly fucked him, he sees the frown crease Danny’s brow, “I just missed my mates.”  Danny leans up and pulls him close to kiss him.  Jackson melts into Danny’s embrace and moans into the kiss.

“Ngh, just five more minutes,” they hear Stiles grumble, trying to pull the covers over his head as he turns over in his sleep.

“I should go help feed our babies,” Jackson says resting his forehead against Danny’s, “And then we gotta get ready for school.”  Danny kisses him chastely on the lips before he slips off the bed and heads to the nursery.

 

When Jackson walks through the door of the nursery Ethan is feeding Iseabail from a bottle, while Ethan is changing Lucas’s diaper, and Scott is sitting topless and has Michael feeding from one nipple and has one of the breast pumps pressed against the other.  Lucas and Michael are getting quite big now, at five months old they’ll start crawling around soon.

“Who’s still to be fed?” he asks.

“We’ve only fed these three, and Laura, Joshua, and Diarmaid,” Scott says.

He pulls the slip up over his head, leaving him in just his panties as he picks up Caden.  Settling in the seat next to Scott; the three month old quickly latches onto his nipple, causing him to gasp at the sensation.

“Trust the werewolves to get their first teeth earlier than the others,” he complains.

“Lucas and Michael have had theirs for the last two months,” Scott gripes, “I told you it hurt when they bite.”

“Yeah, but those two won’t feed from me,” he retorts, “It’s either direct from you or they gripe, and whine, as someone else feeds them from a bottle; unless it’s Derek feeding them.”  With a smirk he adds, “Anyway, you don’t complain when anyone else bites your nipples.”

“Or clamps them,” Isaac adds from the floor where he’s now changing Iseabail.

“And you didn’t complain last night, Jacks,” Ethan adds, “It was a very different moaning you were doing while I had…”  Jackson feels the heat of embarrassment rising as Ethan recounts the teasing he inflicted on his nipples last night.

“We weren’t talking about me,” he blushes, and from the smirks on everyone’s face they know he leaked a little from his arousal into his panties.  “And we still need to finish feeding the babies, get our own breakfast and get to school,” he adds.

“Except me,” Ethan grins, “I get out of school because I need to relax; Doctors orders.”

“How are you so big already?  You’re only three months,” Jackson gripes, “I wasn’t showing that much at three months.”

“Eight of them in here, remember,” he replies patting gently at his round stomach, “That’s twice as many as you carried.”

“Are your sure it’s only eight?  I think you should have Deaton do another scan,” Jackson teases, and doges the cushion Ethan throws at him.

“It better only be eight,” Ethan smirks, “Otherwise, Stiles will need to permanently have you and Scott hooked up to a milking machine…”

“That’s not funny,” Scott cuts in.

“Yeah, you totally hate the idea of something tugging on your nipples for hours,” Jackson teases as Scott scowls at him, ignoring the sniggering from Ethan and Isaac.

“What in the ever-loving name of the Goddess possessed you to get a tattoo covering the whole of your upper back proclaiming that you are a slave and owned by me?!” his Master yells at him.  This isn’t the reaction Aiden thought he was going to get.  He thought his Master would be pleased, and would see that he was acting on his desire for him to make choices for himself.

 

His Master stands up from the chair and comes towards him with a hand reaching out towards him, he’s certain that he’s going to be punished and flinches from Stiles’ touch.  All he can think is that he’s disappointed his Master, and that he’ll be locked away in the room again; away from his pack.

“Please, I didn’t mean to disobey you,” he pleads, dropping from his kneeling position until he lying flat on the floor at Stiles’ feet, “I was trying to show I can make decisions like you want me to, I didn’t mean to do it wrong; please don’t take me away from the pack, please.”

 

He feels Stiles’ fingers gently card through his hair and leans into the touch.

“I’m not going to take you away from the pack,” there’s affection and concern in his Master’s voice, “But why did you get the tattoo?  And why did you get such a large, very visible tattoo proclaiming that I own you?”

“Don’t you want to be my Master anymore?” he asks, his voice trembling as he fails to keep the worry from leaking through, “You… you said that you would accept me as your slave if I made some decisions, and if I used the safe words and accepted the limits you set; because I didn’t want limits. I…”

“I still want to be your Master,” Stiles cuts off his panicked rambling, “I just want to understand why you wanted such a large visible sign that stated for everyone to see that you are my slave and my property.”

 

Aiden has to think how to explain what it means to him; to explain how serving his Master gives him purpose, and how the knowledge that Stiles was there to take control, to guide him, and that he cared about him, grounded him.  He had felt so content since Stiles agreed to be his Master, to accept him as his consensual total slave.

“What you’ve done for me, how you helped me, it means so much.  Belonging to you has freed me and I am so proud and happy to be your slave; I wanted to show you, and everyone, that this is me.  I’m slave aiden, the property of Master Stiles, is who I am and I’m not ashamed of that; I’m proud and happy to be your slave.”

 

Stiles’ first instinct was to use his magic to remove the tattoo.  But he can see that having that proclamation tattooed across his back is important to Aiden.

“You know that once you strip off in the locker room and everyone sees that, the whole school will know, and they will be merciless in their tormenting and bullying.”

“I won’t let them bully you,” Aiden says, suddenly looking up at him, “I’d never let them hurt you Master.”

“I meant that they would torment and bully you,” he replies, wondering how he can allow Aiden to keep the tattoo, let people see it and protect him from the negative reaction some of the jerks at school are going to give him.  He’s going to be exhausted from focusing on hiding the change in his eyes and ears; at least until his hair grows out more to cover the points and the contacts to match his original eye colour arrive.

“Let them try,” Aiden growls.

Stiles decides he’s going to have to play this by ear; see what happens and deal with it as it occurs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-03
> 
> Rafe was not in the best of moods. They were in his new office – **_his office_** – in Beacon Hills. He was the official authority for contact with the supernatural, and his position was being ignored. He had been forced to involve John Stilinski.
> 
> He continued to stare down at the creature, not sure if he was looking at some sort of bipedal lizard or scaly dog. It continued to ignore him as it yapped at the Sheriff.  
> “Guard Captain, you have to warn him, she has sent a new Death. The Lady risked her life to send me to warn you both.”
> 
> The creature had been found at the edge of the preserve. It had been heading away from town, but the two agents he had to staff his office were driving along the road when they noticed it and took action, stunning the creature and bringing it in for questioning. No creature from Arcadia is supposed to have crossed the Hedge and be in this world.
> 
> It had refused to answer anything; stating that it would only talk to the city’s Guard Captain or the young Lord himself. He had said that he was the Guard Captain, but the creature yapped, _“You are not the Stilinski,”_ at him in reply; and yapping is the only way he can think of to describe the creature’s talking. And those words had confirmed all his suspicions about John Stilinski’s involvement with the supernatural.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbeta'd and all mistakes are my own.
> 
>   
> 

After the pack has eaten breakfast Jackson goes to the bedroom to change for school.

 

He opens the underwear drawer and bland, unsexy, pairs of boxer briefs lie there.  Black, grey, white, blue, or burgundy; none of them appeal to him, not even the pair of Andrew Christian briefs that he knows Danny likes.  It doesn’t help that over them he’ll be wearing a pair of slacks.

 

Everything he has to wear covers him up; the clothes don’t allow him to show off his body to his pack, or make it easy for Danny, Stiles, or Scott to take him up against the wall of the toilets when they can’t control themselves after a flash of his panties under his skirt, or they catch a glimpse of the tops of his stockings, held up with a garter or a suspender belt.

 

He never catches the same level of arousal from them when he’s dressed in these clothes as he does when the look at him dressed in his stockings, panties and skirts.  The only downside to wearing the clothes he prefers is they start to think of him as _her_ , as _Jackie_ not Jackson.  And he wants them to look at him dressed in the stockings and panties and know it’s him that is turning them on, _not her_.

 

He throws the pair of boxer briefs back in the drawer, pulls open the drawer below and takes out the pair of fuchsia coloured lace briefs that he bought from xdress.com.  He pulls them on, a small moan of pleasure slipping from his throat at the feel of the soft lace caressing his ass, before pulling on a white linen shirt over his t-shirt, and tucking it in to a pair of tan chinos; fastening the belt he slips on his Jimmy Choo crocodile-embossed leather sneakers.

 

While he has the pleasure of the feel of his panties against his skin, he’s not going to get the leers of his pack fuelled by arousal at the sight of his body being shown off in clothing that highlights how hot and sexy he is.  But something is better than nothing; even if he has to hide his real self.

 

  


 

They are in the locker room getting ready for lacrosse practice.  It’s the start of the new semester and there are some new faces around them.

 

“What the fuck is that?” someone calls out when Aiden takes off his shirt, his tattoo visible to everyone behind him; he’s sure it was Sean, he can be a bit of an asshole.

“Are you talkin’ to me?” he turns and asks.  There’s a few of them staring, including a wide-eyed freshman standing back from the rest.

“Yeah, perv, what the fuck is that on your back?” Sean replies.  The group around him snicker, but the freshman remains quiet with his mouth gaping.  This is the harassment his Master warned him about; he needs to show Stiles that he can deal with them, 

“It’s a tattoo, Sean” he answers, “What did you think it was?”

“Yeah, but it says you **_belong_** to Stilinski…” the sneering tone letting him know that they think that is something he should be ashamed of, but he isn’t.

“And your tiny little tattoo on your upper arm says your ‘ _heart belongs to Harper_ ’, so if she owns your heart what’s wrong with Stiles owning me?”

“That’s different,” Sean snarls at him, “She doesn’t own me!”

“Oh, so your heart doesn’t belong to her?”

“It just means I love her,” as the words leave Sean’s mouth Aiden hears the lie in them as Sean’s heart stutters, “I don’t go around calling myself her ‘ _slave_ ’; I’m not some perv like you…”

“Just because I commit myself totally to someone, and just because I declare that in the tattoo on my back, doesn’t give you the right to call me a pervert,” he calmly states; he doesn’t feel calm he wants to rip Sean’s throat out.  “I have a right to be myself; just like everyone else.”

 

“Alright, everybody listen up,” Coach yells as he comes into the locker-room from his office, “Both practice sessions this week are open try-outs, all positions on the team are available.”

“Coach?” Jackson calls out, “You mean all positions except for the captain, right?  I mean, Scott and I are still co-captains right?”

“All positions means all positions Whittemore,” Coach answers.  There’s a buzz of excitement in the room from the other students, and a nervousness from his pack mates.  Coach adds, “Both you and McCall were out of commission for some of last season’s games, and yesterday’s home runs don’t win today’s game.”

“Coach,” Scott intercedes with his confused puppy face, “We didn’t have any home runs, we were playing lacrosse; not baseball.”

“McCall, get on the field,” Coach grumbles, scowling at him.  Scott and Jackson run out to the field and Aiden follows them out.

 

Even though their Master had insisted that none of them use their werewolf strength and stamina the pack managed to stay ahead of most of the others during the circuits of the field that Coach had them run at the end of the practice session.  Only one person was ahead of them, the freshman Liam, and he managed to rile Scott and Jackson when they saw him performing push-ups after he finished.  Liam was also the only person that they didn’t get any balls passed when he was in goal.  Aiden managed to get a cheer from almost everyone, and some pats on the back, when he got one shot past Liam; but he knows he cheated and had let his wolf come out enough to give him an advantage.  The one person that didn’t celebrate his goal was Sean.

 

  


 

Derek is going out of his mind.  The children are screaming, he’s rushing from one to another trying to feed, burp, change and settle down for a nap nine babies all under six months old; on his own. 

 

Ray has gone into town to pick up some groceries, Melissa and the sheriff are both working, Ethan is having a check-up with Deaton in his room, and the rest of his pack and their master are still in school.  Looking after nine babies is more than one alpha can do on their own, he should have told Ray to wait until after the kids had their afternoon feed before he went into town, at least then he would have had some help.  But when Ethan’s babies are born the number of babies is going to almost double.  They are going to need to work something out.

 

He’s holding Laura with one hand and rubbing gently on her back with the other as her head rests on his shoulder when Deaton enters the nursery.

“We need to talk about Ethan,” the vet says.  Before he can ask what he means Laura chooses that moment to be sick over his shoulder and down his back.

 

  


 

Rafe was not in the best of moods.  They were in his new office – **_his office_** – in Beacon Hills.  He was the official authority for contact with the supernatural, and his position was being ignored.  He had been forced to involve John Stilinski.

 

He continued to stare down at the creature, not sure if he was looking at some sort of bipedal lizard or scaly dog.  It continued to ignore him as it yapped at the Sheriff.

“Guard Captain, you have to warn him, she has sent a new Death.  The Lady risked her life to send me to warn you both.”

 

The creature had been found at the edge of the preserve.  It had been heading away from town, but the two agents he had to staff his office were driving along the road when they noticed it and took action, stunning the creature and bringing it in for questioning.  No creature from Arcadia is supposed to have crossed the Hedge and be in this world.

 

It had refused to answer anything; stating that it would only talk to the city’s Guard Captain or the young Lord himself.  He had said that he was the Guard Captain, but the creature yapped, _“You are not the Stilinski,”_ at him in reply; and yapping is the only way he can think of to describe the creature’s talking.  And those words had confirmed all his suspicions about John Stilinski’s involvement with the supernatural.

 

“Who sent you?” the sheriff asks it.

“The little Lord’s mother,” it answers, which only annoys Rafe more, “She sent me to warn you and the little Lord that another Death has been created and sent.”

“Who is the Death?  What do they look like?” he asks, but still the lizard dog ignores him.

“What’s the Death here to do?” Stilinski asks.

“He’s here to send the little Lord to the Court, so the Queen can steal his power for herself,” the creature answers the sheriff’s question.

“And who is the Death?” Stilinski asks.

“He was a wolf, she called him Charming Death.”

“No, his real name,” the sheriff explains.  But the creature doesn’t seem to understand.

 

"Stilinski,” he calls to the man, nodding his head to the door to indicate he wants to talk to him privately.  They walk into the corridor outside the interview room the creature is being held in.

“Okay, who’s the little Lord?  And what connection do you have with him and…” the pieces suddenly fall into place, “He’s your son, the Lady is your wife Isabel.  That’s why the Fae creature would only talk to you and ignored anything I asked it.”

“What makes you think that my son is some sort of Fae royalty?  He’s in high school, with your son; they met in kindergarten, how would a five year old hide the fact they were supernatural?”

“No more lies Stilinski,” he snarls, squaring up to the man; nose to nose, “I want the truth, now.”

“Sheriff, we have a situation at the station we need you to help with,” crackles over the sheriff’s radio.

“On my way,” he turns his head and answers into the radio, turning back to Rafe to answer, “You’re gonna have to wait, I have a job to do now that I’ve finished helping you.”

 

  


 

Liam can’t hold in the smirk of satisfaction that he feels as he jogs out to the car park after practice.  He knows he out performed everybody trying out for a spot on the team.  And he felt them all watching him, especially Aiden and his friends.

 

He’d watched them – almost as closely as they watched him – during try-outs.  He saw how close their group was, and how none of them cared about the relationship between Aiden and Stiles that was expressed in that tattoo; unlike the other group of students around Sean.  And that felt like a cold hand squeezing the breath from his lungs.

 

Aiden and Stiles seemed like they could be people he could talk to about his feelings of late – about a certain deputy – but given the way Sean and the rest of the guys trying out for the lacrosse team trash talked them it could be social suicide to be seen talking to them.

 

Still, knowing that there was someone who might understand him – someone real and not just a bunch of porno on the net – helped him feel more okay about himself.  Even if they did manage to score one goal past him.

 

  


 

Peter had been following the Fae all day since he arrived in town; the distinctive Impala an easy car to spot.

 

Réamann was following his usual routine.  Peter had seen him visit the same shops previous afternoons, in the same order, and follow the same routes and times.  He made it so easy.  Every previous day he hadn’t been able to follow the elf continuously.  The Sithen magic stretching into town far enough to conceal his target when it sensed him.  But the meticulous sticking to the same routine and the same schedule had helped him break through the protection that the magic had given.

 

He was leaning against the Impala when Ray returned, a puzzled look crossing his face when he noticed him.

“Such a nice car you have,” Peter says, smiling at the elf, “So unique in this town, a one of a kind.  It makes it so difficult not to admire and appreciate it.”

“Thanks,” comes the cautious reply.

“I have something similar,” he says reaching into his pocket, “Not a car, but something that I think you’ll appreciate just as much.”

“Sorry, I have to get home,” Ray replies as he closes the trunk of the car.

“Please,” he pleads, taking a grip of the elf’s forearm and placing the locket in Ray’s hand.

 

He steps back as Ray looks down at the locket in his hand, his eyes widen in recognition as the intricately carved symbol flares into life and travels from the surface of the locket along the elf’s skin.

 

Peter watches as Ray opens the locket, the light from it illuminating his face and reflecting in his eyes.  The elf’s whole demeanour changes, hardens, and as the light from the locket vanishes as the last of it seeps into the elf’s being he snaps the locket closed.  The smirk that breaks across the elf’s lips chills Peter to his core.

 

  


 

Peter isn’t sure exactly what was supposed to happen once he gave the locket to the elf.  The Queen had said that it would remind him of his true self and his mission, but he’s not sure that the anger in his eyes or driving off in his car was necessarily the expected outcome.

 

Once he got back to the loft he was renting he used the mirror to contact her – _so much cheaper than a cell phone and the reception was excellent no matter where you were_ – if only there was someone around to appreciate his witticisms when he thinks of them.

 

He reported on his successful delivery of the locket to her grandson, and that he seemed a changed man but didn’t stick around to report any information, like how to get to the house.  The Queen didn’t seem concerned; simply saying, “I expect he will be in contact soon, once he readjusts and remembers who he is loyal to”.

 

He wasn’t as convinced of that as she was, but Peter kept that to himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-04
> 
> As soon as that **Death** put the artefact in his hand all of his memories and experiences began to return; who he really is, and why he is here.
> 
>  
> 
> The memories of his life since his capture when he worked against the Queen, and her success in bending him to her will. The affects the months of being coated in **_The Tears_** had…
> 
>  
> 
> He remembers how, after he was captured trying to pass information to those within the Unseelie Court that believe she has lost all reason, he was taken before her in the throne room. There, before all the nobles of the Court, he was stripped naked and, to show she still held power, she used her magic to make every hair on his body stand out and pull itself from him; one by one. It started slowly, and gradually increased in speed until he was screaming in agony. He wasn’t a masochist, but she was a sadist and enjoyed his pain. Later, after she made him her plaything, he learned to enjoy his pain too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.
> 
>   
>    
> 

As soon as that **_Death_** put the artefact in his hand all of his memories and experiences began to return; who he really is, and why he is here.

 

The memories of his life since his capture when he worked against the Queen, and her success in bending him to her will.  The affect that the months of being coated in **_The Tears_** had…

 

He remembers how, after he was captured trying to pass information to those within the Unseelie Court that believe she has lost all reason, he was taken before her in the throne room.  There, before all the nobles of the Court, he was stripped naked and, to show she still held power, she used her magic to make every hair on his body from the neck down stand out and pull itself from him; one by one.  It started slowly, and gradually increased in speed until he was screaming in agony.  He wasn’t a masochist, but she was a sadist and enjoyed his pain.  

 

After the strand of his hair stood straight up on his head, pulled out, and floated to the ground, she had him coated in The Tears, the sensual oil that makes any being cry with want of the touch of the Sidhe; cry out in pain at the loss of their touch, the need for physical contact, whether loving or cruel by one of the Sith.  With the oil covering every inch of his now hairless skin he was bound and locked in a cell.  Unable to be touched by anyone, and unable to touch himself.  The oil clung to his skin, seeped into every pore, and left him with only the need for any Sidhe to touch him, no matter how, just the need of their skin making contact with his.  Every week the oil was reapplied to his body.  But no-one touched him, and slowly time lost any meaning and all he knew was the agonising need.

 

At some point his hair began to regrow.  Then one day it wasn’t the goblin-kin that came into his cell to reapply the oil.  The Queen herself entered his prison.  A Sidhe was so close to him, and the craving to be touched created by the oil was like an addiction.  He begged, he pleaded for her to do anything to him, anything that would mean she touched him.  It didn’t matter that she was his grandmother, it didn’t matter what she did, nothing mattered but to feel the touch of another Sidhe.  And she did so many things to twist his needs and desires.

 

She slapped him, kicked him, and spat on him; she ripped the skin from him with her fingernails and he begged and screamed and pleaded for more.  She slapped and kicked his cock and balls; it made him harder and fuelled his arousal and need.  He came again and again until he had nothing left and his orgasm was nothing but a dry painful shuddering in his bondage.  And still he begged for more, the pain and pleasure were intertwined and inseparable.  Then she reapplied the oil to his bloodied body, leaving him a whimpering and pathetic mess hanging in his chains as he pleaded for her not to leave him.

 

She trained him well.  Lead him naked, collared and leashed into the Court as he trailed after her on all fours then sat at her feet, as she sat on the throne, and moaned in pleasure as she dug the heels of her shoes into his back, or ground them on his cock and balls.  He loved the pain she gave him; her touch was all he lived for.  It had felt natural, at the time, to give himself to her and become her obedient slave.  But he never made an Oath of his loyalty or submission to her, and she never asked him to.

 

When her power slipped further from her, and she had sent her Deaths to bring the Fae Lord to her and they had failed, then she had a plan.  She needed someone she could trust to infiltrate the little lord’s court.  Someone who would gather the information from there that would allow her to take back the power the little lord had stolen from her.  All the power of a Nematon, and the favour of the Goddess and Consort.  Of course he agreed to whatever his Mistress desired of him.

 

She removed his memories, desires and experiences and placed them in the artefact; returning him to what he was before his capture.  More or less.  He knew he was here on a mission for the Queen, and that he was supposed to return her Fertile Death to her.  But he also knew that Fertile Death was his mate, and that he needed to protect him from her wrath.

But that wasn’t true.  Whatever magic the Queen had wrought on him fooled him and fooled Ethan and Aiden.

 

Now that her new Death has returned the artefact to him – returned who he was so that he can complete the next part of his true mission – he knows that they are not his mates.  Just another part of the Queen’s plan to give him a reason to want to go against her.  He also knows that they will be able to tell there is something different about him; his scent won’t be the same and they won’t be so easily fooled.

 

But the Queen’s magic didn’t work as she had hoped, it may even have worked too well.  He’s not the same person he was in her court.  When she took away his memories she truly made him a new person, and now he has new experiences and new memories that her magic cannot touch and warp to her will.  And he has a new Master that he serves.

 

He has tasted Stiles hand spanking him, he as felt his Master’s cock spear deep inside him, and his desire for his Master’s touch – for Stiles’ touch – burns deeper and hotter than his need for the Queen’s touch ever did.  But he knows they will never be free of her, not while she lives and sits on the throne of the Unseelie Court.

 

So the answer is simple.  All he needs to do is help his Master kill the Queen and take the throne.  He needs Stiles, Lord Tighearnach, to become King of the Unseelie Court.

 

For that he needs to make his Master’s need for him as great as his own addiction for his Master.  He knows that Stiles would never want to rule the Unseelie court, not unless he can find a way to persuade him.  To do that he will need to trick him into Arcadia, and there he can apply _The Tears_ to him; learning from what the Queen did to him, he can make his Master need him as much as he needs his Master.

 

He knows that he should never treat his Master in such a way, but if he doesn’t do this, if he doesn’t persuade his Master kill the Queen, then she will take his Master from him.  And he cannot allow that.

 

This is the only option.  His Master will just need to punish him afterwards, once he is on the Dark throne.

 

The one stumbling block to his plan is going to be re-entering the Sithen.  It will know he is changed and that he plans to take Stiles from it.  And it will do all it can to stop him.

 

  
  


 

Ray is driving near the preserve, again.  He can’t find he turn off to the road leading to the house; the Sithen’s protective magic keeping him from seeing it.

 

He’s about to give up and turn back to town – figuring that as a cover he could take the car to the mechanic’s to have a tune-up, leaving it there overnight, and ask the sheriff if he could drive him home when his shift ends – but luckily Scott cycles by on his bike.

 

“Hey, Scott,” he calls out to him, “Want a ride?”

“What about my bike?” Scott asks.

“We can put it in the trunk, it’ll fit.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll even let you drive?”

“Seriously?” Scott excitedly yelps, “You never let anyone drive.”

“Maybe I have ulterior motives…” he replies with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Like what?” Scott confusedly asks, his brow creasing in a frown.

“Never mind,” he replies with a sigh, sometimes Scott could be clueless, which in this case was perfect, “Let’s get your bike in the trunk.”

 

As Scott drove them to the house Ray smiled at his fortune in getting past the Sithen’s defences.

 

  
  


 

“Why isn’t Deaton here to explain?” Stiles all but snarls, but Deaton, the person he wants to snap at isn’t here.

“He has a clinic to run and…” 

“I know he has a clinic, Scott is just home from working a shift there,” he interrupts Derek, at the widening of Derek’s eyes he knows he has to reign in his anger.  He can’t take his frustration out on his subs by shouting at them; they aren’t to blame for this, Deaton is.  Deaton and his half information.  “Sorry, I shouldn’t be shouting, I just wish Deaton would give all of the information and not part of it.  So all he said was that despite the fact we know Ethan only became pregnant during his heat here with us three months ago, he is actually somehow now five and a half months pregnant and will give birth sometime in the next two weeks.”

“Yes,” Derek says in a monosyllable answer.

“No explanation of how?”

“No.”

“Brilliant.”

“But he did say he wants Ethan at the clinic tomorrow so that he can do a more thorough examination than he could here.”

 

“It could be the Sithen itself,” Ray offers as an explanation of the acceleration of Ethan’s pregnancy.

“You mean like it warped time around the room that I had Aiden in?” Stiles clarifies; at Ray’s nod of confirmation he adds, “But that was a whole room, how could the time be changed so drastically for only Ethan without anyone around him being affected?  Why? And how would he not notice?”

“I don’t know, but, Master, your magic is more powerful than I have seen at the Unseelie Court,” Ray replies, “Possibly more powerful than the Queen herself.  If the inherent magic of your Sithen were to sense a need or desire for Ethan’s gestation period to be shorter than the normal six months, then I think it could find a way to make that happen.”

“Hopefully Deaton will have more answers tomorrow.”

 

  
  


 

After the pack have all spent some bonding time with the babies, and helped with feeding and changing them, Scott and Jackson are alone in the nursery settling them in their cots for the night.

 

Before they leave the room Scott pulls Jackson into a hug.

“So, want to talk about whatever it is that’s worrying you?” he asks Jackson, “We can all tell something is bothering you.”

“Who can?”

“Everyone can feel you’re worrying about something, and I’ll bet that Danny and Stiles are waiting on you talking to them about it, but I could feel how on edge you are right now, so, you know I’m here if you wanna talk.”

“I don’t…” Scott holds him tight as he feels Jackson tremble in his arms, and waits, “I don’t want to be Jackie anymore.  I’m Jackson, I want to be Jackson; I’m not her.”

“Okay, what’s so bad about that?  Stiles isn’t gonna make you dress as Jackie if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Scott can feel Jackson’s anxiety rise and hear his heartbeat increase, “I… I want to dress like that, all the time, but I don’t want to be Jackie, I don’t want to be a different person.”

“All the time?  Even at school?”

“Aiden can be himself, I want to be myself.  I know I can’t.  I know…”

“Talk to Stiles,” Scott interrupts him, “Tell him how you feel and what you want.  Tell him Jackie is red for you.  He’s our Master, he’s also your mate, and he won’t want you to be Jackie if he knows you don’t like being Jackie.”

“I guess, it just seems everyone likes her more.”

“No, it’s just everyone knows how hot **you** are in the clothes,” Scott leans in against Jackson’s ear and whispers, “Especially the red satin and lace panties and stockings, with that camisole that shows off your belly button.”

“You mean the fishnet one that stops just above my belly button, and curves down either side with the garters attached that stretch down and fasten to the tops of my stockings?”

“Yeah,” Scott’s reply come out a low growl, his hands roaming up under the gold satin chemise that Jackson was wearing, “So sexy Jacks, so slutty.”

“Just for my pack,” Jackson replies breathily; both of them getting aroused from their thoughts, words, and much needed contact.  They nuzzle against each other’s cheek, nipping at the jawline.

“Damn, we gotta stop,” Scott suddenly whines. Jackson’s own whine following.

 

“Why?” Jackson asks as he continues to nip along Scott’s crooked jaw.

“Our mates are waiting on us,” Scott gasps needy from Jackson’s attention.

“But we’re allowed to play together.”

“I know, and we need to have an omega only night together, like we had before, but right now you need to go tell our Master you don’t like being Jackie, and Derek’s waiting to give me a spanking.”

“Why is Derek giving you a spanking?” Jackson asks, pulling back slightly to look Scott in the eye.

Scott just waggles his eyebrows at him in reply.

“Should’ve known,” Jackson snorts in understanding of just how much of pain slut Scott could be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-05
> 
> “Gonna breed you so good,” Derek growls in unrestrained need, “Fill you with my cock and knot you until your belly’s swollen with my come.”  
> “Please,” Scott find himself gasping wantonly as the head of Derek’s cock breaches into him; suddenly he’s filled with the length of him and his alpha his pounding into his ass at a relentless pace. All too soon Scott feels Derek’s knot swell and the pressure of it against his sweet spot has him spraying Issy in more of his come, his orgasm strong enough that he passes out.
> 
> A little later, he returns to semi-consciousness to find they are under the covers of the bed. Issy is clinging to him chest to chest, and Derek is pressed against his back; he can feel that Derek is still tied to him, his knot still swollen and large inside him. From the tackiness against his skin he knows that his come wasn’t cleaned from Issy’s chest and stomach before they curled up for the night. The rumble of contentment that vibrates through him from Derek’s chest and the nip at the back of his neck from his teeth have him relaxing against Derek.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.
> 
>   
>    
> 

As Scott walks into his bedroom he knows he still smells of arousal from his brief petting session with Jackson; his cock is still plump in his briefs and he’s still slick between his ass cheeks.  A fact not lost on his mates as they take deep breaths as he walks through the door.

 

Isaac is lying on the bed, his legs raised as Derek powders him before fastening a fresh diaper.  They both turn and look in his direction; Derek raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“I was with Jackson, cleaning up the nursery,” he says; knowing they already know where he was and that isn’t what Derek’s expression is about.

“Cleaning the nursery turns you on?” Derek smirks at him.

“No, snuggling and nuzzling with Jackson turned me on, and thinking about you here waiting on me.”

“He talk to you about what’s upsetting him?” Derek asks; Scott knows their alpha has been concerned about Jackson not talking to anyone regarding what has had him out of sorts for the last couple of days.

“Yes, and he’s going to talk to Stiles and Danny about it,” he answers as he strips out of his remaining clothes and tosses them into the hamper before climbing on the bed beside his mates.

“Good, he shouldn’t feel that he needs to hide anything, none of you should,” Derek says, “If something worries me I’ve learned to talk to our Master about it, and all of you should be able to talk to your mates, to me, or our Master.”

“Yes, Sir,” Scott smiles at him, as Isaac says, “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good, now,” Derek turns his attention full on to Scott, “It’s time for you to let Issy have some milk while I warm that ass.”

 

Scott kneels, one knee on either side of Issy’s diaper covered hips; he leans down and takes a kiss from his little’s lips before stretching out over him and Issy takes one of his nipples in his teeth.  Before Issy starts to nurse at his nipple in earnest his cock his rock hard and straining against his abdomen.  Scott moans as Issy’s teeth nip as he suckles the milk from him, and gasps as Derek’s lands the first smack on his ass.

 

He loses himself in the sensations, the feeling of Issy’s mouth, teeth and lips, on his nipples, and the hard slaps of Derek’s hands on his ass and upper thighs.  He’s not sure how long Derek has been spanking him, he’s only barely aware of the feel of it; he can hear each smack land, but his ass is just a constant burn.  Issy has stopped feeding from him; looking down his body he can see his nipples puffy and red as they stand out from his chest, his cock twitches in arousal at the sight and feel of them.  He also notices that Issy is playing with a pool of cum on his chest; he knows it isn’t Issy’s, he’s still padded in his diaper, but he wasn’t aware that he’d come, but he must have, and he feels the growing need to come again.  He gasps at the sudden feeling of Derek pulling his ass cheeks apart and the cool wet of his tongue lapping at his slick leaking from him.

 

“Gonna breed you so good,” Derek growls in unrestrained need, “Fill you with my cock and knot you until your belly’s swollen with my come.”

“Please,” Scott find himself gasping wantonly as the head of Derek’s cock breaches into him; suddenly he’s filled with the length of him and his alpha his pounding into his ass at a relentless pace.  All too soon Scott feels Derek’s knot swell and the pressure of it against his sweet spot has him spraying Issy in more of his come, his orgasm strong enough that he passes out.

 

A little later, he returns to semi-consciousness to find they are under the covers of the bed.  Issy is clinging to him chest to chest, and Derek is pressed against his back; he can feel that Derek is still tied to him, his knot still swollen and large inside him.  From the tackiness against his skin he knows that his come wasn’t cleaned from Issy’s chest and stomach before they curled up for the night.  The rumble of contentment that vibrates through him from Derek’s chest and the nip at the back of his neck from his teeth have him relaxing against Derek.

 

Scott turns his head to nuzzle against Derek’s cheek.

“I need to start taking Deaton’s contraceptive pill again,” he says.  Neither he nor Jackson have been taking the pills since they are both providing the milk for the babies, and littles.  Ethan currently doesn’t need to take them as he is still give birth; so only Isaac is taking them just now.

“You can’t,” Derek grumbles his reply, “It interferes with your milk production, and some of the little ones need more than others.”

“But I’ll be having another heat soon, in about a month or so,” he argues, “We can’t rely on my breastfeeding the cubs keeping me from getting pregnant, like we do just now, when I go into heat.”

“I’ll talk to Stiles,” his mate answers before murmuring, “Maybe, just he, Danny, and Ray will fuck you during your heat; they wouldn’t knot and could use protection.”

“ **I’m** going to **want** your knot in me as much as **you** are going to **need** to knot me, so you know that isn’t an option; right?” Scott violently whispers.

“I’ll work something out,” Derek whispers back before nuzzling against his neck, “Now go to sleep.”

“ **WE** will,” Scott emphasises.

“We’ll work something out,” Derek growls, nipping at the back of Scott’s neck, “Bossy bottom.”

 

  
  


 

Jackson walks into his bedroom knowing he still smelled of Scott and the arousal that they built in each other back in the nursery.

 

“Smells like someone had fun in the nursery,” Danny smirks at him.

“We only cuddled,” he replies, “And talked a bit.”

“About what?” Stiles asks, patting the space in the bed between them.

Jackson rolls his stockings down his legs and grabbing the hem of the chemise lifts it up over his head, leaving him in just his panties.  He puts the stockings and camisole in the laundry basket before crawling onto the bed between his mates.

 

“We talked about stuff,” he finally answers Stiles’ question, “About something that’s been on my mind… a bit.”

“Want to share with us?” Stiles asks.

“I…” it’s harder than he thought to say to his Master and he finds himself closing his eyes as he struggles for the words.  It was Stiles that first created Jackie, giving him that persona to hide behind before he knew how much he enjoyed the clothing, and the attention his pack gave him, being a slut for them, and especially being a slut for his mates; and now he worries it’s Jackie that Stiles wants, but he can’t be her, he can’t let her take his mates love from him.  The words rush from him before he loses the courage to say them again, “I don’t want to be Jackie anymore.”

 

There’s silence and he daren’t open his eyes to look at their reaction.  He feels the brush of their noses against his cheeks on either side as they nuzzle against him.

“Okay,” Stiles says, “If you don’t want to dress like that anymore you don’t have to.”

“No,” he yelps in panic, “That’s not… I don’t… I want to wear, I mean I **like** the clothes, I just don’t want to pretend to be female, I don’t want the wigs and the makeup; I don’t want to be Jackie.  I want to be me, Jackson, a guy.”

 

He looks between his two mates, and sees some confusion cross their faces.  He’s not sure they understand.

“I want to be a fuck toy. I love being your slutty bitch boy, but I still want to be a **boy** , not Jackie, me Jackson.  It feels like the pack is asking me to be a different person, like they just want her; you should all be looking at me.  Only me.  I know I might sound crazy, but I feel like you forget it’s me you’re looking at when I pretend to be Jackie.  I feel like she is taking you away from me.”

“Okay,” Stiles smiles at him, and he can feel Danny smiling as he rubs his face against his cheek, “No more Jackie, just Jackson our cross-dressing man slut.”

“We could give the makeup to Allison and Lydia,” Danny suggests.

“Except the eyeliner,” Jackson blushes as he adds, “It emphasises my eyes.”

“Okay,” Stiles says chuckling.

“And the nail polish,” Jackson adds again, and as his mates’ eyes widen, he quickly adds, “Just the clear kind though, I mean it does help protect my nails.  Well, maybe some colour occasionally…”

“Anything else?” Danny asks.

“No,” he replies, “The rest of the makeup, and the wigs, and the bags can all go.”

“Okay, slut” Stiles smiles at him before he climbs on top on him, kissing him on the lips.

“And…” he feels his heartbeat pick up, and can feel the arousal start to build as his body flushes with the embarrassment of his confession and what he’s about to admit, “I want to dress like that all the time.”

 

There’s silence again.

 

“Even out in public?”

He nods.

“And at school?”

He nods again.

“You know you’re going to have more to deal with than Aiden does, right?  It defeats the purpose if I use magic to hide you.”

“I know, but he gets to be himself, and I want to be able to be myself too.  Only a few people at school saw the tattoo, but everyone was talking about it.  I can deal with them all making fun of me.  Being dressed like that makes me feel sexy; and I know it shows my body off to my pack and that they get turned on looking at me.  Please, let me do this?”

Stiles and Danny share a look before Stiles replies

“Okay, we’ll work something out.”

“Thanks, Master, and thanks, Danny.”  He kisses them both as he replies.

 

  
  


 

Aiden is starting to be worried about Ray.  Something is wrong, and he knows that Ray is just not the same.

 

It started when they came to bed.

 

Ethan had been lying on his side curled up with the body pillow – that Scott, Jackson, and Isaac had used during their pregnancy – but Ray rolled him over onto his back and started running his hands up and down over Ethan’s pecs and swollen belly.

_ “I’d heard that when omegas got pregnant with so many cubs they grew additional mammary glands; that other pairs of nipples started to appear down their chest and abdomen.  But,” Ray’s hands stopped roaming and his fingers gripped and twisted, hard, at Ethan’s nipples, as he grinned down at Ethan, “You’re not producing any milk at all; guess we’re lucky that Scott and Jackie are producing so much.” _

_ Aiden watched as Ray leaned down over Ethan and snarled into his ear, “And as much as I want to fuck you hard and fast I can’t use as I’d like; we can’t risk anything happening to the cubs with you being further along that you should be.  So, I’ll just need to fuck your brother’s mouth.” _

 

And Ray did.  He roughly used Aiden’s mouth, holding himself deep in his throat and making him choke as Matt cowered in corner and Ethan looked on with worry from the bed.  Aiden remained soft throughout the onslaught, not even threatening to push against the confines of the metal cage his cock was locked in.  Aiden balled his hands into fists and then splayed his fingers wide, over and over.  It was one of the signs Stiles had insisted on when he wasn’t able to speak.  When Ray pulled fully out of his mouth he coughed and spluttered, moving his head so that Ray couldn’t instantly shove his cock back down his throat, _“Yellow,”_ he finally managed to call.

_ “You don’t get to tell me to slow down,” Ray snarled as he yanked Aiden’s head back with a fistful of hair and rammed his cock back into his mouth. _

 

As they settled down to sleep Aiden was feeling on edge – and he was sure his brother on the other side of their mate was just as on edge – Ray had ignored him when he used his safe-word.  He patted the bed beside him for Matt to curl up with him, needing the comfort and feeling of pack around him.

 

_ “No,” Ray roared as soon as Matt was lying at Aiden’s side; he pulled him by the tail and dragged him from the bed, “Dogs sleep on the floor.” _

_ Aiden knew from the yelp and look on Matt’s face that Ray had hurt him when he wrenched him off the bed by the tail. _

_ “But…” he started to protest, only for Ray to back-hand him hard enough to cut his lip open. _

_ “If you need to sleep with the pet then maybe, like the pack slave you are, you should join him on the floor,” Ray snarled at him as he kicked him from the bed too. _

 

Aiden settled himself on the blanket with Matt.  The blanket was against the wall and he made sure to curl around Matt and kept him against the wall and his own back to the room.  He wasn’t sure how much sleep he’d get, worrying about his brother in the bed with Ray, their mate.  And the worry about their mate only grew.  He should go to Stiles and tell him Ray ignored him when he used the safe word, but he doesn’t want to leave Ethan and Matt alone with him.  He’ll wait until morning and talk to Stiles then.

 

  
  


 

Rafe McCall was concerned.

 

The Fae creature still refused to talk to him, and he was getting nowhere fast.  He knew that Stilinski was keeping the truth from him, and no matter what he said Rafe knew that his suspicions were right; Stiles Stilinski had to be the ‘little lord’.

 

If what the creature had said was true, then war between two Fae courts was about to erupt in Beacon Hills – that broke the Accords that the Seelie and Unseelie Courts had signed with the government – and everyone in the town was in danger, and his son was at ground zero beside the Fae lord that shouldn’t be here.  No member of the Fae courts was supposed to be on this side of the hedge.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-06
> 
> Jordan licks along the spine of the boy splayed out below him, travelling down from the groove between his shoulder blades to the pert mounds of the boy’s ass. He nips at the fleshy bubble butt and cool air swirls around his wet cock as the boy gasps, his lips and tongue momentarily leaving Jordan’s hard cock.
> 
> As the boy’s lips fasten around the head of his cock again, Jordan kneads at the mounds of the boy’s ass, pulling the globes apart to reveal the tightly closed hole. He leans down and his tongue licks over the pink flesh, he begins to lave broad wet, eager, strokes over the slowly opening entrance. Finally he is able to push his tongue inside; the boy gasps around his cock, and the hole clenching around his tongue as Liam comes violently, his release spewing from his cock trapped between his abdomen and Jordan’s bed…


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.
> 
>   
>    
> 

Aiden woke to the feeling of his cock pushing against the confines of the chastity cage he was locked in, where it pressed into the cleft of Matt’s ass.  His nose resting on the back of Matt’s neck.  Aiden’s arms were wrapped around the changeling and he was clinging protectively to him.

 

As he blinked himself half-awake the memories of the previous evening returned; the casual cruelty with which his mate had treated him and Matt.  He stares through the strands of Matt’s hair at the wall in front of them.  It’s different.  He jerks to a sitting position and looks around the familiar room.  

 

He couldn’t remember being brought to the room, and he couldn’t figure out why Ethan wasn’t with them.  His Master couldn’t be mad at him for using his safe-word when Ray was using him last night.  Stiles said he should use them; he’d said he would be disappointed in him if he didn’t use them when he needed to.  And last night with Ray he needed to, he couldn’t catch his breath, his vision was blurring and he didn’t feel safe.  But how else could he have gotten here except through his Master’s magic keeping him asleep?  Something had to be wrong; he didn’t know why he and Matt were being punished by being separated from the pack, and he was worried – was Ethan safe with Ray?

He curls back up beside Matt, a small whimper escaping from him as he hopes that his Master will come and explain to him why he and Matt are here.

 

  
  


 

The moment Ray awoke he realised that he had fucked up – big time – as he turned over in bed and looked to where Aiden and Matt should have been.  They weren’t there, nor were they on the floor and the blanket that they had been sleeping on was gone as well.

 

He knows that he went too far; that he should have stopped when Aiden used the signal and the safe word.  Stiles always checked, so did Derek when he topped, and Ray wasn’t aware of anyone calling other than ‘green’ with them.

But, when Aiden started signalling his distress, and then called ‘yellow’, something just came over him and he resorted to the way he had been used by the Queen.  He ignored safe word, he continued to use him brutally.  He overplayed his hand, and his master won’t allow his actions to go unpunished.

 

He may have destroyed his plan to failure before he has even started to work on it.  How will he be able to convince Stiles to go to Arcadia with him if Stiles no-longer trusts him?  Only in the Fae Wild will he be able to get ‘The Tears’; the oil he will need to use to reshape his Master.  He needs to talk to Stiles, to try and explain himself.  And fast.  But he needs to work out what to say.  He can’t lie to his Master, Stiles can tell when someone lies to him; it’s one of his powers, plus he can’t break his oath.  Unlike with the Queen, he swore his loyalty and submission to Stiles.

 

He cannot break his Oath, and he doesn’t want to.

 

  
  


 

Stiles knows he wasn’t fully paying attention to where he was going.  He was thinking about Jackson, and his desire to dress in – what most people would consider – female clothing full time, he told last night that he could.  But this morning he’d had to tell him to wait until he’d checked the school dress code.  His mate had not been happy, but had eventually accepted that he just wanted to make sure the school couldn’t suspend or expel him for wearing stocking, skirts, and heels.

 

But that doesn’t explain why he’s not in the kitchen that he was heading to, but standing in front of the eclipse room where the Sithen had manipulated time for him, and bound Aiden without his powers when he first came to the pack – okay, when he kidnapped him and held him against his will until he switched sides – after Ethan’s heat.

 

He has to enter the room though.  He knows enough about the Sithen and its magic now to realise that he wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t needed. He still never expected to find Aiden, curled against the wall with his back to the door.  His tattoo is readable from the doorway.  From the tail resting against Aiden’s leg he can tell that between Aiden and the wall Matt is lying there with him.  But what are they doing in this room?

 

“Aiden, Matt,” he calls to them, they both turn to face him; relief showing on Matt’s face and mixture of worry and hope on Aiden’s, “What are you doing in here?” he tries to ask as Aiden pleads over his words.

 

“Please Master, I’m sorry, please don’t lock us in here away from the pack, please.  I won’t use the safe words if I’m not supposed to, and I won’t let Matt on the bed with me; please don’tabandon us down here, away from the pack.” 

 

The tears are streaming down Aiden’s face, and Stiles realises that the shock and anger on his face isn’t exactly giving the right impression.

“You’re not being punished.  I didn’t lock you away from the pack, I didn’t even know you were in here,” he says, trying to control his anger from slipping into his voice, pulling both Aiden and Matt into a hug, “Now, from the beginning, tell me what happened, and why you had use your safe words.”

 

He listens as they – mostly Matt, as Aiden doesn’t seem to be the confident person he was yesterday standing up the guys at school who were putting him down because of his ‘slave aiden’ tattoo – tell him how Ray roughly handled Ethan, how he ignored Aiden signalling and calling out ‘yellow’, and how he pulled Matt from the bed by his tail.  His anger at Ray rises as he listens to them endangering Ethan’s pregnancy, ignoring Aiden’s use of his safe word, and treating Matt so callously.  But he knows that Aiden knows something more that he hasn’t said.

 

“Now I want you to listen to me carefully,” he says lifting Aiden’s chin until he looks at him, “You have every right to use a safe word, and if anyone ignores you using it again you come and tell me, Derek, or someone else as soon as you can.

Ray should not have behaved like that; he was in the wrong, not you or Matt.  Ray should have stopped when you used the hand signs to show you wanted to safe word, he should have stopped when you called ‘yellow’, he should not have pulled Matt from the bed by his tail, and he should not have been so rough with Ethan.  Now, let’s get you two cleaned up; then we’ll go check on Ethan, make sure he is okay and let him know you are alright.  I’m sure he’ll be worried that you weren’t in your bedroom this morning, then we’ll get ready for school.”

“What about Ray?” Aiden whispers.

“I’ll deal with Ray,” Stiles answers, willing his Sithen to keep the errant Fae from the rest of his pack.

 

  
  


 

When Ethan woke he was partly relieved to find that Ray wasn’t in the room.  He hadn’t felt the usual feeling of security and safety of being with his mates through the night, and his sleep had been fitful and tiring.  He’s not sure how much was down to being close to term, and how much was down to Ray’s unusual behaviour.  His relief was short-lived when he noticed that Aiden and Matt were also not in the room.  He roused himself from the bed and waddled to the nursery, after a visit to the bathroom to pee; something he feels like he’s doing every five minutes that he’s awake lately.

 

Derek, Scott, Isaac, and Jackson were there cleaning, feeding, and changing the babies.  

“Morning,” he greeted them, “Any idea where Aiden or Matt are?” he asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

“No,” his alpha replied, a frown creasing his brow before he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I was just…” Ethan started to answer.

“Lying,” Stiles voice comes from behind him.  He turns to see their Master walking towards him with Aiden and Matt at his back.  Aiden looks anxiously at him, then to Stiles; at Stiles’ nod of his head Aiden runs towards him and draws him into a hug, nuzzling at his neck.

 

“I know, he’s not very good at hiding his lies,” Ethan hears Derek say, “What happened?”

“Ray crossed a line I won’t accept anyone crossing,” Stiles replies; and Ethan feels his brother go tense in his arms.  “Ray ignored Aiden when he safe-worded, among other things he shouldn’t have done.  Matt, Aiden and Ethan can bring the rest of the pack up to speed while I go deal with my cousin.”

 

At that Stiles turns and leaves the room, and their alpha and pack mates turn their attention full to them.

 

  
  


 

Ray knows the Sithen is keeping him from Stiles.  He should have reached his Master’s room by now, there just aren’t this many turns and corridors in the house.  He turns down another corridor and is startled to a halt.  He’s in front of the Umbral room; the room that Stiles held Aiden in.  The room that can’t be found… unless the Sithen wants you to.

 

He knows he has to run, but as he turns around, retreating back the way he came, before he takes one step, something slithers across his foot.  He looks down to see tendrils wrapping themselves swiftly around his ankles.  He lifts his foot to step away, and the vines are suddenly covered in thorns that dig into his skin.  As he tries to fight them off, they rip into him, tearing his sleep pants from his body and dragging him into the room.

 

“No,” he shouts but is silenced as the doors to the room close after him as he’s pulled inside; naked and bleeding.

 

  
  


 

_ Standing at the foot of his bed Jordan stares down at the boy sucking his cock and rutting against the sheets; he leans over and licks along the spine of the boy splayed out below him.  His tongue travelling down from the groove between his shoulder blades to the pert mounds of the boy’s ass.  He nips at the fleshy bubble butt and cool air swirls around his wet cock as the boy gasps, his lips and tongue momentarily leaving Jordan’s hard cock. _

 

_ As the boy’s lips fasten around the head of his cock again, Jordan kneads at the mounds of the boy’s ass, pulling the globes apart to reveal the tightly closed hole.  He leans down and his tongue licks over the pink flesh, he begins to lave broad wet, eager, strokes over the slowly opening entrance.  Finally he is able to push his tongue inside; the boy gasps around his cock, and the hole clenching around his tongue as Liam comes violently, his release spewing from his cock trapped between his abdomen and Jordan’s bed… _

 

Jordan bolts upright in his bed; his cock, trapped in the bed sheets, is hard and throbbing from his most inappropriate, and he’s sure physically impossible, dream.  And these dreams are seeping into his thoughts far too frequently and easily.  He’s sure the sheriff didn’t notice his boner when he caught him day-dreaming as he sat at his desk filling in paper work for the ticket he gave the Impala for parking illegally outside the school.  He’d seen some of Stiles’ friends get in the car, having taken the ticket from the windscreen and toss it in the glove compartment.  Then he noticed Liam.  The boy was watching the car drive off, a look of longing in his eyes, and that took Jordan’s thoughts in a totally unsuitable direction.

 

His alarm starts buzzing at him and he hits the off button.  Rising from his bed he heads to the shower, ignoring his insistent morning wood; though he decides that a cold shower will be in order.

 

  
  


 

Liam pulls the sheet away from where it is sticking to his body.  His mom is going to start asking him why he’s changing his sheets so often; she’s probably already wondering why he puts them in the washer-dryer himself.  But he just comes so hard, and so much, when he has these dreams about being used by the deputy.

 

He still can’t understand why he keeps dreaming about being on the bottom in his dreams.  He starts to get hard at the idea of dominating the young deputy when the dream comes back to him.  _The feeling of his hands held in place as he sucked on the deputy’s cock, his tongue swirling around the glans, and the man leaned over him and licked down his back, nipping sharply at his ass before pulling the cheeks apart and_ … fuck, he hopes the feel of the man’s tongue licking over his hole and then spearing into him is as good as it was in his dream.  His whole body had shook with the force of his orgasm, he was still in spasm as he woke.

 

He reaches for the cloth he keeps to clean up most of the mess.  Sniffing the sheets he thinks he can get away with not changing them.  They’re not that… stiff… it’s only the third dream he’s had since he last changed them.

 

He gets up from the bed, and taking the cloth heads to the bathroom; he’ll have to wash that out at least, and he can do that while he showers.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-07
> 
> Stiles follows where this Sithen leads him. He isn’t surprised when he finds himself in front of the room he found Aiden and Matt in earlier. When he walks through the doors into the Umbral room, the sight that greets him does surprise him.  
>   
> The room looks nothing like it had for Aiden. It’s changed entirely, and feels oppressive and foreboding. It’s dark, and dank, and as he walks the sound of his footfalls echo hollowly as if in an empty stone chamber. And the room is not empty.  
>   
> In the centre of the room a large climbing rose bush has sprung from the ground. Its vines are wrapped around Ray’s legs and arms, holding him in the air, naked and stretched out his feet can’t reach the ground. His arms and legs spread wide and held firmly where they are circled with roses and thorns at his wrists, elbows, shoulder, ankles, knees, and thighs. The rose petals stained red with his blood as it drips onto the flowers that seem to sway closer to him as if searching for more.  
>   
> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.
> 
>   
>    
> 

Jordan is in the corridor outside the Sheriff’s office as he takes him his coffee when he hears the shouting from inside.

 

“ **You’re son is a fucking fairy!** ” Agent McCall seethes, loud enough that he can hear him through the door.  He opens the door and walks into the office, both men are standing quietly; placing the sheriff’s cup of coffee on his desk he turns to face Agent McCall.

“You know Agent, I couldn’t help but overhear your statement while I was in the corridor,” he calmly states, “And I think that you’ll find that it could be a federal civil rights violations falling into the category of hate speech motivated by bias against the sexual orientation of the sheriff’s son.”  He keeps his face from showing any reaction to the Agent now standing there with is mouth open, and the sheriff hiding his laugh behind the coffee cup shaking in his hand and the twinkle in his eye clear.  “You may want to consider whether your homophobia is affecting your professional judgement and if training is required to help you deal with it.”  He then turns and leaves the office not giving them time to reply and closes the door behind him.

 

Sitting behind his desk Jordan considers the Agent’s words.  He knew there was something supernatural related to his boss and his son; now he knows what.  The sheriff’s son is Fae, or at least half-Fae.  But Jordan’s mom told him that no Fae were permitted to be on this side of the hedge.  They should all be in Arcadia.  She had said it was part of the Accords; the agreement that the Queen of the Unseelie Court, and the King of the Seelie Court, had sworn with the President of the United States.  No member of their Courts would live on this side of the hedge.

 

He wished his parents were still around so that he could ask them more about the Fae, the courts, and the Accords.  But all Fae were forced to return to the courts, or like his mother they died trying to remain.

 

  
  


 

Stiles follows where this Sithen leads him.  He isn’t surprised when he finds himself in front of the room he found Aiden and Matt in earlier.  When he walks through the doors into the Umbral room, the rooms new look, and how it is restraining its new occupant is something of a surprise however.

 

The room looks nothing like it had for Aiden.  It’s changed entirely, and feels oppressive and foreboding.  It’s dark, and dank, and as he walks the sound of his footfalls echo hollowly as if in an empty stone chamber.  

 

In the centre of the room a large climbing rose bush has sprung from the ground.  Its vines are wrapped around Ray’s legs and arms, holding him in the air, naked and stretched out his feet can’t reach the ground.  His arms and legs spread wide and held firmly where they are circled with roses and thorns at his wrists, elbows, shoulder, ankles, knees, and thighs.  The rose petals stained red with his blood as it drips onto the flowers that seem to sway closer to him as if searching for more.

 

There are vines wrapped around his neck and forehead, holding his head up to see the object against the wall ahead, an ebony sarcophagus.  But he has his eyes squeezed tightly shut; not looking.  The sarcophagus is standing upright and humanoid shape, as Stiles examines it he realises that the ears carved into the side of the head are pointed, and the eyes are three rings of different coloured crystals; it’s supposed to be a Sidhe.  He can feel the fear radiating off Ray.  If the Sithen has created this room and the objects in it from some memory of Ray’s then… was Ray tortured in a place like this, or was he the one doing the torturing?

 

Stiles steels his resolve; he doesn’t intend to punish Ray until his own anger at the way he abused Aiden, Ethan, and Matt is abated, but he needs answers.  He needs to know why and how he could do that.  Then he needs to understand what this place is to Ray.

 

“Open your eyes,” he commands Ray as he steps in front of him.  Ray shakes his head and whimpers as the thorns cut into his skin; his blood running down his forehead, into his eyes, and from his neck rivulets mark his chest.

“Ray…”

“Please, no, please Master, I…”

“ **OPEN YOUR EYES!** ”

 

Ray’s eyes snap open wide with fear.  Stiles sees him try to shrink back from the sarcophagus, even as the vines hold him and the thorns cut deeply feeding the roses.

“Look at me,” he quietly says.  Rays eyes turn to him with relief filling them.

“You know why you were brought here?” he snarls at his cousin.  Ray whimpers in response.

“ **ANSWER ME!** ”

“Y-Yes Master.”

“Why?” Stiles asks, he needs to know why Ray would ignore Aiden’s use of his safe word.  Every one of the pack knows that you don’t ignore someone using a safe word.

“I ignored Aiden signalling to stop, I told him not to tell me to slow down or stop when he called ‘yellow’.  I’m-I’m sorry… I…”

“Why?” Stiles interrupts him, “Why would you do that to your mate?”

“I… I don’t…”

“DON’T LIE!” Stiles screams at him, “You know I can tell when someone knowingly lies to me,” he throws his hands in the air as he storms back and forth in front of Ray, “Why would you even…” he stops and turns to face Ray, “Just tell me the truth.”

 

  
  


 

Ray looked down at his cousin, his Master and his only hope of being saved; he realised he had to tell him truth.  His plan to trick him into Arcadia never stood a chance of succeeding, he’d been stupid and rash to think it would.  The lack of forward planning that landed him in the hands of the Queen to start with.  Now the truth was his only hope of gaining his Master’s forgiveness and mercy.

 

“Because I could, because in the Unseelie Court the Queen, or whomever she leant me to, never allowed me a safe word, and I was so starved and needy of the touch of another Fae I allowed them to do whatever they wanted.  And finally being on the other side of that power exchange… I could.”

“Why now?  Why not when you first came here with Ethan, or after we knew that Aiden was also your mate?  You’ve been dominant with them, and with Jackson, before now?” Stiles demands.

 

“I’m not the same as I was then,” Ray answers, and hearing the confusion in his mind simmer to through he continues, “She changed me, made me more like I was before; more like she made me to begin with.”

“Who?”

“The Queen.  The Morrigan.”  Ray feels Stiles’ mind lock down hard at his words.  His thoughts blocked from their connection.  “Please, Master, I…”

“How?  When?  Tell me what happened!” he cuts off Ray’s pleading for him not to shut him out.

 

He sees no other option than to explain everything.  Starting from the beginning when he was working with his mother, his capture and training at the hands of the Queen as he learned to be her masochistic slave, her selection of him as the one to infiltrate Stiles’ Sithen, his pack, how she stripped away most of what he had become and made him almost what he had been before, and meeting the Death at his car, the locket and return of what she had taken.  His words become more frantic as he talks, and his Master stands there, saying nothing and showing no emotion.  Ray has never seen him look so cold; so like the blood relation they share.  Stiles walks around the shadows of the room, fading from view.  The vines cutting into Ray as he moves his head and tries to follow him.

 

“ ** _You’re working for her?_** ” his voice is filled with the pain of my revelation, the betrayal and hurt he feels.

“ **No** … I was but not now, I swear I am loyal to you, Master,” Ray pleads and begs, “ ** _I gave my oath to you, I submit to you not her._** ”  Stiles’ mind is still closed to him, and he fears what that might mean.

“If you are loyal to me, then why did you not tell me about the Death yesterday?”

“I…”

“Did you intend to tell me any of this, or were you planning on fulfilling your Queen’s command?” Stiles interrupts before Ray can answer.

“I was going to tell you…”

“When?” Stiles barks his interruption again.

“When I had taken you to Arcadia to kill the Queen and take the Unseelie Throne,” Ray rushes his answer, the words running into one another.

A deep rumbling roars through the room as it shakes; Stiles stumbles where he stands from the force of it and the vines tighten their grip on Ray’s limbs and torso.

 

“It’s the only way to protect us all from her madness,” Ray says, “It’s the only way to protect your pack, your family; to save your mother you have to remove the Queen from the throne.  You have to defeat her.”

Stiles stares at him, but Ray can see nothing but shock in his Master’s face.

“I need to go check on everyone after that earthquake,” he says and heads to the door.  Ray hears it close behind him before he can tell him that it wasn’t an earthquake.  It was Sithen showing its anger, and Stiles’.

 

  
  


 

Ray’s words buzzed around Stiles’ head, ‘ _The only way to save your mother… you have to remove the Queen from the throne.  You have to defeat her._ ’  Ray was telling the truth, or at least he believed he was.  Stiles racked his brain trying to think of what he could do; something other than take on the Morrigan for the Unseelie throne.  There had to be something, but what if there wasn’t… and what about the Death that had been waiting at Ray’s car… 

 

The thoughts were still tumbling around in Stiles’ head as he walks into the kitchen.  The pack are all busy getting breakfast.

“Not much damage from the earthquake then,” he says, only to receive confused looks from everyone.

“What earthquake?” Derek ask, his eyebrows drawn down into a V.

“You guys didn’t feel that?” he exclaims, “It nearly knocked me over; how could you not…  Unless… I need to ask Deaton about it.”

“About?” Derek prompts him.

“Later, more important things first…  

One, Ray is bound in the Umbral room, but Ethan, I want you to stay beside Derek and the babies until we get back from school.   
Two, Ray has been a sleeper agent for the Queen this whole time.   
Three, there is another Death out there, he did something to Ray to make him remember he’s supposed to be working for the Queen.  So everybody else make sure there is another pack mate with you at all times.  
Four, Ray says he is loyal to me, and he wasn’t lying, but he wants me to take the Unseelie throne and replace the Queen…”  

The room vibrates, the glasses and cutlery rattling on the table and counter tops; not as violently as when he was in the Umbral room, but enough, and the whole pack clearly noticed.

“One’s an incident, two’s a coincidence,” Stiles says, more to himself than anyone else; to the room he says again, “Ray wants me to take the Unseelie throne,” the vibration is just as violent the third time as it was the second, “Three’s a pattern.  I don’t think it’s an earthquake, I think the Sithen doesn’t like the idea of me moving to the Unseelie Court any more than I do.”

 

He finally notices the shell-shocked look on Ethan’s face as he holds a hand over his bump.

“Ray was working with the Queen?” Ethan asks, his voice small and trembling.  Stiles moves to him at the same time Aiden does; both of them wrapping their arms around him, Aiden nuzzling at the back of Ethan’s neck.

“He’s not now,” Stiles says, “He isn’t working with her anymore.”

“But he was, when he brought me here, and when he was with me during…”

“The person he was then wasn’t, he was your mate and all he cared about was keeping you safe from the Queen,” Stiles tries to comfort Ethan.

“ ** _He’s not our mate_** ,” Aiden growls, “He doesn’t **_smell_** like our mate.”

“Yeah, lets deal with that after school,” Stiles groans, “We need to hustle or we’re gonna be late.  Scott, Isaac, you guys take the Camaro; Aiden, Danny, Jackson, and Matt, you guys are with me in my jeep.  The Death knew that the Impala was Ray’s car, so that’s staying here.”

 

  
  


 

Stiles heads to the office when they arrive at school.

 

“Can I help you young man?” the woman behind the desk asks.

“Hey Ms. Rhodes,” he smiles at her, “Can I have a printed copy of the school’s dress code please?”

“You do realise it’s available on the school web site?” she asks, looking up at him through the horn rimmed spectacles perched on the end of her nose.

“It is?” he ask, “I didn’t see the link to the dress code on the web site, but I did see the section that said it’s available from the school office.  So, can I?”

She hits a few keys on the keyboard, and clicks something on screen with the mouse; the printer behind her starts up.  Looking at him as if he’s wasting her time, she stands up and walks to the printer, picking up the two pages printed out she returns and hands them over.

“Thanks,” he smiles at her.

 

Walking to his first class he scans over the pages.

** Dress Code Policy **

We believe that attention to appearance and a student's attitude toward self and school are related.  We recognize that a students' mode of dress and grooming is a manifestation of their personal style and individual preference. We believe that students and parents can freely choose apparel that demonstrates individuality, as well as maintain the standards of the school.

 

** Coverage, Condition & Fit: **

At a minimum, clothing selected for school must cover students from their shoulders to mid-thigh.

Clothing must be clean and in good repair and cannot be tattered or torn.

Clothing must be the proper size and fit, allowing for ease of movement while continuing to cover the area described above.

Clothing must be sufficient to conceal undergarments at all times.

Clothing that becomes revealing when sitting or moving is not appropriate for school.

See-through or fish-net fabrics, halter tops, low necklines, sheer garments, off-the-shoulder or low-cut tops, and skirts or shorts shorter than mid-thigh are prohibited.

 

There is nothing that would prohibit Jackson from wearing his skirts, stockings, and heels to school.  He can’t wait to pick out Jackson’s clothes tomorrow and see the smile on his face.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-08
> 
> Liam is walking towards the cafeteria only half listening to what Mason is saying, something about how hot he finds someone that was trying out for the lacrosse team. But Liam is focused on the people ahead of them. Aiden and Matt. The school is still talking about Aiden’s tattoo, and he remembers that Matt is one Stiles’ group too.  
>   
> He sees Sean, and a few of his buddies come down another corridor and stop in front of Aiden and Matt.  
> “Well, what have we here, if it isn’t the faggot pussy boy that likes to be told what to do,” one of Sean’s group – Cody? Liam isn’t sure – says. The guy’s attention turns to Matt, “So you turned into one of Stiles’ faggot slaves too then Matt?”  
> “No,” Matt says, “I’m not Stiles’ slave. I’m his pet, if I’m really good I get skritches behind the ear, belly rubs, and he plays fetch with me.”  
>   
> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.
> 
>  **Warning:** This chapter may be upsetting for some readers.
> 
>   
>    
> 

Ray felt the vines grip him tighter, the thorns dig deeper into his body, as he hung in the grasp of the roses.  The room was exactly as he remembered the Queen’s dungeon, and his fear grew as more vines appeared and dragged the sarcophagus towards him.

 

“Please, no, please,” he pleaded, “Master didn’t say to put me in there, he said to keep me here, please don’t!”  The fear rising in him at the memory of being locked in the darkness of that… thing… before, the oil coating him and being left alone surrounded by the solid, silent darkness.

 

The tendrils of plant fan out and curl around the edge of the ebony coffin like fingers; pulling the solid heavy lid up as if it was feather light, opening it to reveal the iron lining.

“NO!  PLEASE GODDESS NO!  MASTER PLEASE!” Ray screams in terror.

 

As the vines holding Ray lower him to the sarcophagus they loosen their grip, and in fear and desperation he makes a panicked bid for freedom.  Calling on his powers he rips free of the vines, the thorns cutting across his arms, legs, and torso, as he finds himself moving at lightning speed; the power is new, not something he had before.  The arcs of electricity in his wake slowing the rose vines from catching up to him.

 

He unthinkingly bolts for the door, racing through and out into the corridor.  He moves at speed, faster than the Sithen is able to change the layout of the rooms, doors, and passageways.  He zips up to the first floor and sees the open front door ahead of him.  His car is there.  He runs out of the house naked, grabs the spare keys from the glove compartment, ignoring the cell phone there, and drives.

 

His only thought is to get as far from the Sithen as possible; he needs to be out of its range of influence.  He doesn’t consider how easily he has escaped; how he found his way from the room no-one finds to the outside world.

 

  
  


 

Greenburg is sitting at the back of the room.  Normally he’d be listening to Coach’s class with rapt attention.  But his thoughts are tightly wound around the fear that he is going crazy.

 

His dreams – nightmares – about Stiles, Jackie, Danny, Matt, and the rest of Stiles’ growing gang have only gotten worse.  Especially after the locker room incident the other day when everyone saw Aiden’s tattoo.  He woke in a cold sweat this morning.  And this dream only contained himself.

 

_ He was standing naked in front of a full length mirror, with his hands on his head.  Slowly symbols began to write themselves on his body, emanating from his heart, flowing outward in a spiral until his chest was covered.  The symbols travelled up, winding along his arms, over his shoulders and down his back.  All the while he was shouting something that he couldn’t hear.  The symbols and writing flow down his face, until they are covering every inch of his body.  The scream is no longer silent… _

 

“Tagann Bás do Tiarna Madraí,” he shouts aloud.  The whole class has turned and is staring at him, his gaze turns and searches out one person.  When he finds him Stiles eyes are wide and fearful.

“You want to try answering the question in a language we all speak?” Coach asks; before Greenburg says anything more his world turns dark as he passes out.

 

  
  


 

Liam is walking towards the cafeteria only half listening to what Mason is saying, something about how hot he finds someone that was trying out for the lacrosse team.  But Liam is focused on the people ahead of them.  Aiden and Matt.  The school is still talking about Aiden’s tattoo, and he remembers that Matt is one Stiles’ group too.

 

He sees Sean, and a few of his buddies come down another corridor and stop in front of Aiden and Matt.

“Well, what have we here, if it isn’t the faggot pussy boy that likes to be told what to do,” one of Sean’s group – Cody?  Liam isn’t sure – says.  The guy’s attention turns to Matt, “So you turned into one of Stiles’ faggot slaves too then Matt?”

“No,” Matt says, and wanting to take their focus off Aiden he confesses, “I’m not Stiles’ slave.  I’m his pet, if I’m really good I get skritches behind the ear, belly rubs, and he plays fetch with me.”

“What the fuck?!” Sean spits out, pushing Matt backwards, “You’re another fucked up weirdo?!”

Aiden steps between Sean and Matt.  

“Keep your hands off,” Aiden snarls at him, holding back the ‘MINE’ that was on his lips.

 

Liam can feel his heart thudding in his chest; part of him wanting to run and aid Matt and Aiden, and part of him wanting to flee and stay out of trouble.

“Dude, we should like go get a teacher or something,” Mason whispers beside him.

“Yeah, you do that, I’ll stay here and witness… stuff,” he whispers back.

 

As Mason runs off back down the corridor Sean goes to punch Aiden in the face, Aiden blocks it and, holding back, hits Sean in the stomach.  One of Sean’s friends moves to hit Matt, but he ducks down and sweeps his legs out to take the guy down.

Liam sees the other two guys getting ready to start landing their own blows on Aiden and Matt; there’s a bit of a crowd standing around doing nothing to help, and he can’t hold back.

“ ** _Hey, two against one ain’t fair_** ,” he shouts jumping into the fray.  Aiden is holding out against the two that are attacking him so Liam lands a blow against the second one attacking Matt.

 

“ **ALRIGHT, BREAK IT UP!** ” he hears Coach bellow.  Sean and his cronies jump back with shouts of ‘they started it’.

“No we didn’t!” Liam yells at them, “You four attacked them first!”

“ **Quiet!** ” Coach hollers, “You can save your excuses for the Principal and your parents.  So, to the office; **now!** ”

 

  
  


 

Ethan was in the nursery with Derek and the babies.

 

They had just finished feeding and changing all nine babies and the last of them were settling down in their crib for a nap.  Ethan was lying curled up beside his alpha on the large mattress in the room; his head in Derek’s lap as Derek’s fingers brushed through his hair.  The closeness and heady scent of his alpha was helping to calm the worry Ethan had felt since the events last night – Ray was more aggressive than Ethan had ever known him – and the revelations this morning…

 

Ray is not his mate.

 

What does that mean, both for him, for Aiden, and for the unborn children he is carrying that Ray is the father of?

 

“Do you want a binky to suck before you wear that thumb down to nothing but a stump?” Derek’s voice cuts through the turmoil of his thoughts.  He hadn’t realised he was sucking his thumb.  He looks up through his lashes at Derek.

“You don’t have to worry about Ray,” his alpha says frowning down at him, “Stiles told the Sithen to keep him away from the rest of the pack.”

“But what about the babies?  Some of them are Ray’s, and if he isn’t with the pack…”

“Stiles took care of Aiden and brought him into the pack, and Ray has already said he is loyal to Stiles, so I’m sure after suitable punishment he’ll be more like the Ray we knew.  I’m sure Stiles will take care of him.  So don’t worry.”

His alpha’s hand rest over the baby bump; a reassuring weight.  Derek’s other hand bring a binky to Ethan’s mouth, he opens his lips and sucks it in.

“Take a little nap, then I’ll fix us some lunch,” Derek says, kissing the top of his head, his fingers going back to combing through Ethan’s hair, and the rhythmic sensation of it lulls him to sleep.

 

  
  


 

Scott, Isaac, Danny, and Jackson are sitting at the cafeteria table wondering where Stiles, Aiden and Matt have gotten to.  They feel an uneasy tension; knowing that something is wrong.  Before they get up to leave and go look for them both Lydia and Allison sit down beside them.

 

“Aiden and Matt got into a fight with Sean and the three losers that are his only real friends,” Lydia informs them, “They’ve been taken to the principal’s office, along with the freshman that joined in to fight beside them.  Where’s Stiles?”

“We don’t know; and I haven’t seen him since Economics, when Greenburg blacked out,” Scott replies, “He should be here, maybe he’s gone to the office to sort out Aiden and Matt’s fight?”

“Hopefully,” Allison says, sounding doubtful, “I don’t think Matt will be happy if his parents are called.”

“And the Sheriff is listed as Aiden and Ethan’s guardian,” Danny adds, “I’ll text Stiles.”

“Should we go to the principal’s office and…” Scott starts to ask.

“And do what?” Lydia asks, “I think we would look at little conspicuous hanging around outside the office when Matt’s parents and the Sheriff show up if the principal contacts them, don’t you?  And Danny, tell Stiles he shouldn’t have gone to Deaton’s clinic alone.”

“What makes you think he went to Deaton?” Jackson worriedly asks.

“Because of what Greenburg said,” Lydia simply replies.

 

  
  


 

Jordan is out patrolling the outskirts of town when the black Impala races past him.  The guy may be the sheriff’s nephew, and given that he recalls Stiles introducing him as his cousin on his mother’s side, Jordan is fairly certain that ‘Ray’ is one of the Fae, or like Stiles and his own mom half-Fae; but he doesn’t let the guy off with illegal parking so there is now way that he is gonna let the guy away with driving around naked.

 

They are on the edge of town, and there is nothing around except trees, but that isn’t the point.  He turns on his lights, and siren, signalling him to pull over; but he doesn’t he just speeds up, his driving a little erratic and dangerous.  Jordan knows he has to pull him over before he hurts himself, or someone else.

 

“Dispatch?” he calls in on the radio, “Hey Tara, you there?”

“Hey Parrish?  What’s up?”

“Can you put me through to the Sheriff please?” he asks, “I think I may have a slight problem with a black Impala.”  The Impala had just rounded the corner ahead at speed, drifting in the other lane; thankfully there was no oncoming traffic.

“The sheriff and Agent McCranky headed over to the school, but I’ll patch you through.”

“Agent McCall is still around?”  Jordan couldn’t think why both of them were heading to the school.

“Yeah, Parrish switch to channel-4 for the Sheriff.”

 

  
  


 

“I can’t believe our Matt has been in a fight, he’s such a quiet boy.  We never hear him in his room, and it’s always so tidy when I check on it,” Matt’s mom is lecturing at the Principal.

“Mrs Daehler,” John says to her, “That could be because for the past few weeks, while you somehow haven’t noticed, he’s been living at the cabin with my son and his friends.”

“Yeah, getting belly rubs and playing fetch,” one of the other four snickers, getting laughs from his friends.  John isn’t sure who the kid sitting with Aiden and Matt is, he’s sure he hasn’t been at the cabin with Stiles and the others.

“No, that can’t be,” Mrs Daehler is saying, “I’d have noticed if…”

“When?” Matt suddenly shouts, “When you couldn’t find an unopened bottle of wine?  When you couldn’t find the pills for the headache you had the morning after?  I told you I was moving in with Stiles, but maybe you’d already passed out in front of the TV, I mean I saw the glass of wine sitting on the table beside your chair, but I don’t know which bottle you were on…”

The static of the sheriff’s radio blaring to life interrupts.

 

“Sheriff, Deputy Parrish is pursuing a 505…”

“Deputy Graeme, I’m sure Parrish can handle…”

“It involves a black Impala and…”

“Damn it, tell him to switch channel,” he turns to the Principal, “I’ll be right back.” And heads out the door.”

 

“Parrish?”  John can hear the sirens of Parrish’s patrol vehicle.

“Sir, your nephew is driving his car at high speed and drifting across the lanes about two miles south of the preserve, heading north towards the abandon warehouse.”

“Can you get ahead of him and cut him off?”

“I’m trying Sir, but his swerving is making it difficult to do so safely.  Also, he’s… Shit is that lightn…”

There’s a crackle and then nothing more.

“Shit, Ray what have you done?”

 

John turns to head back into the office when the door opens and Aiden bolts out, quickly followed by Matt and the young kid that was sitting with them.

“Matt?” “Liam!” he hears called from inside.

 

“I’m going to have to deal with an incident that’s occurred,” he says to the Principal and the other parents in the room, “Agent McCall, could I have a word.”

They both step out of the room and he turns to Rafe McCall.  He has no choice but to leave him to deal with things here, despite not fully trusting the man, and hope that he’s doing the right thing.

“What did your son do to those…”

“Stiles hasn’t done anything, but right now I have to go check on one of my Deputies.  I think Aiden must have been listening in, and that he’s gone to get Scott.  They’re most likely at the cafeteria I suggest you head there while I go deal with my emergency.”

He doesn’t give McCall time to answer or question how Aiden could have been ‘listening in’.

 

  
  


 

“So, what?  Greenburg is some sort of Prophet?  Seer?” Stiles asks Deaton.

“Possibly.”

“Doc, a straight answer would be useful here.”

“There’s no conclusive answer I can give you currently.  What you describe and given what he said, it is possible that the Goddess gave you a message through him.  That doesn’t mean it would happen again.”  Stiles stares at the man, making it clear that his answer isn’t the useful answer he was looking for.

“Fine,” he grumbles even as he concedes, knowing that Deaton won’t give a clearer answer, “So, about Ray working for Queen, not working for the Queen, and…  Goddess I was already so pissed at him for what he did to Aiden and Matt, when he told me that he had been working for the Queen all along… seeing how afraid he was of the sarcophagus I half thought of throwing him in it, but I couldn’t do that.  Even though it’s gonna take a while before I can fully trust him again, and even longer for Ethan and especially Aiden.  Made me think I should maybe threaten to throw him in to scare him, make him scared enough to flee and solve one problem,” at Deaton’s concerned look he adds, “Don’t worry I wouldn’t do that either; I may be a sadist, but I’m not cruel.”

“I told you already, you need to be careful about what you think in your Sithen…”

 

Before Deaton finishes his reply Stiles’ phone rings with the ringtone he set for Ethan.

“Ethan, buddy, everything okay?”

 

“No, Master, please,” Ray’s voice sobs through the speaker, “Please help, I think, I think I killed someone…”

“Where are you?” Stiles heart is in his throat as fear grips him – _how did Ray get out of the room?  How does he have Ethan’s phone?  Who has he killed?_ – “Who have…”

“I’m at an old metal building away from the house, he was chasing me with flashing lights, please help me?”  The line goes dead.

“Ray?!”

“When you thought of making Ray scared, you did decide you couldn’t do that either, didn’t you?”

 

As Stiles’ considers the Doc’s question there’s a ping on his phone as a text from Danny arrives; he chooses to ignore it.  The next minute his phone is ringing with Scott’s ringtone.

“Scott, listen, Ray’s got out of the room, and he’s killed someone…”

“Parrish,” Scott supplies, and Stiles hears an anguished, “NO!” in the background, “Your dad was talking to him on his radio.”

“Get everyone back to the house, I need to know you are all safe, and that’s the safest place right now.”  He hangs up.

“Doc, I gotta go get my cousin under control.”

“And your Sithen,” Deaton calls after him.

 

  
  


 

When Stiles pulls up beside the Impala he gets an uneasy feeling.  Stepping out of his jeep as the dirty brown rusty clouds of dust rise at his feet he knows why; iron.

 

He walks towards the building, and stepping through the shadowy doorway he finds Ray, naked and curled into a ball on the far side.  Ray immediately throws himself at his feet, his arms wrapping around Stiles’ knees.

 

“Please, Master, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run away, but the Sithen was going to put me in the box, you didn’t tell it to, you told it to keep me there, but I couldn’t go in the box, not after she had kept me in the box, please, and I didn’t mean to kill the deputy, but everything is so mixed up and confusing, and I was scared and I called down lightning and the car exploded in flame and I just wanted to make him stop chasing me, I needed to get away, I needed to think…  Please, don’t let her take me from you, please we won’t be safe unless you kill her”

“Sh,” Stiles hushes Ray’s stream of words.  He can feel the fear and confusion radiating from his cousin, opening the link between them the thoughts and memories swirling in Ray’s mind are like two completely different people.  What has the Queen’s meddling magic done to him?

 

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t put you in the sarcophagus,” he soothes Ray, running a hand through his hair, “and I’ll find some way to keep the pack, **all of us** , safe from her.”

“Oh, isn’t that sweet,” a familiar voice behind Stiles says.  He turns to face Peter, but Ray stands between them, defending Stiles.  “Your grandmother will be so disappointed in you Reamann.”

 

Stiles is about to strike out at Peter, when the wolf’s hand shoots out and he finds himself flying back.  His head hits one of the metal posts, cutting it, and he falls flat on the ground; the dirt and rust getting into the open wound and filling his mouth.  He tries to stand but is dizzy from the knock on his head.  Looking up he sees Ray try to call down lightning to strike at Peter, but it hits the metal shell of the building.

 

His vision is blurring and he can’t focus as he tries to spit the metallic taste from his mouth.  From seemingly nowhere Peter has a sword.  Stiles wonders why Ray isn’t using his light to blind Peter.

“No!  You shouldn’t have that?!” Ray’s voice full of fear calls out.

“I won’t tell, and neither will you,” Peter replies, pulling his arm through the air.  As he black outs the last thing Stiles sees is Ray’s head land in front of him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-09
> 
> Scott sees Aiden and Matt running through the cafeteria towards him; catching up behind them is the young freshman from lacrosse practice.
> 
> “Ray’s escaped, he’s killed Deputy Parrish, the Sheriff was talking to him on the radio when it happened,” Aiden whispers when he stops in front of him. Matt and the freshman arriving as Scott is taking out his phone.  
> “Isaac, call Derek,” Scott commands him, the alpha in him surging to protect his mates and pack.  
> “What’s going on?” the freshman asks.  
> Scott calls Stiles, turning his back on the room, as Aiden fills the rest of the pack in on what’s happened.  
> “Scott, listen, Ray’s got out of the room, and he’s killed someone…” Stiles says the minute he answers.  
> “Parrish,” Scott supplies, and there’s an anguished, “NO!” from behind Scott, the pack had forgotten about the presence of the freshman, ‘Liam’ he hears Matt call him. He returns his attention to Stiles, “Your dad was talking to him on his radio.”  
> “Get everyone back to the house, I need to know you are all safe, and that’s the safest place right now,” Stiles instructs him before hanging up.  
>   
> Scott turns back to the room and sees the attention that their group is now getting from the rest of the student body in the cafeteria, and sees his dad striding towards them.  
> “SCOTT!” his dad shouts out.  
>   
> 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.
> 
>  **Warning:** This chapter may be upsetting for some readers.
> 
>   
>    
> 

John Stilinski’s heart sinks as he pulls up behind the burning wreck of a patrol car.  Getting out of the car he sees the lights were lying at the side of the road and the roof of the cruiser is bashed down; there are tracks in the dirt that suggest the car slid or skidded.  It looks like it had flipped over onto its roof, and then possibly rolled until it righted itself.  He grabbed the fire extinguisher from the trunk of his car and walked towards the wreck.  The heat was still rolling of the vehicle as the flames danced out of where the rear window used to be.  Continuing round he saw Parrish, sitting in the driver seat hands grasping the steering wheel.  At least he assumes it’s Parrish’s body still being licked by the flames.

 

The body is charred and blackened, the mouth pulled open in silent scream by the effect of the heat of the fire on muscles and tissues of the jaw.  John wonders if the death was quick enough that the scream was silent even then.  He hopes it was; he doesn’t want the young man to have suffered because of his family.  And that thought sickens him; that is was one of his relations – _albeit by marriage_ – that killed him.

 

He unclips the hose, and pulls the pin out, before aiming the nozzle at the still burning car.  Squeezing the trigger and sweeps the wreck until the flames around the body are out and then starts to work back along the rest of the car.  There are still flames around the trunk that he’s dealing with when he hears a pained gasp for air from the front of the vehicle.

 

He turns to see Parrish’s corpse struggle from seat of the car and stagger out, falling to all fours on the scorched earth.

“Oh, Sweet Jesus, No,” John whispers to himself, “I’ve just started to get a handle on werewolves and kanimas.  Fae I can deal with, but zombies cannot be a real thing.”

“Sheriff,” comes strangled from Parrish’s throat as the corpse struggles upright and starts towards him.  John backs carefully away, reaching for the gun in his holster.

 

The charred and blackened skin is peeling from Parrish’s body, floating off in the air.  The skin revealed below is molten red and slowly lightens to pinkish tone, but his eyes sparkle like fire opals.  Soon there is no sign that Parrish was in the car when it burned.  He’s standing before him perfectly healthy looking; albeit naked.

 

“Sheriff,  I think we need to talk,” Parrish states with an innocent air.

 

  
  


 

Scott sees Aiden and Matt running through the cafeteria towards him; catching up behind them is the young freshman from lacrosse practice.

 

“Ray’s escaped, he’s killed Deputy Parrish, the Sheriff was talking to him on the radio when it happened,” Aiden whispers when he stops in front of him.  Matt and the freshman arriving as Scott is taking out his phone.

“Isaac, call Derek,” Scott commands him, the alpha in him surging to protect his mates and pack.

“What’s going on?” the freshman asks.

Scott calls Stiles, turning his back on the room, as Aiden fills the rest of the pack in on what’s happened.

“Scott, listen, Ray’s got out of the room, and he’s killed someone…” Stiles says the minute he answers.

“Parrish,” Scott supplies, and there’s an anguished, “NO!” from behind Scott, the pack had forgotten about the presence of the freshman, ‘ _Liam_ ’ he hears Matt call him.  He returns his attention to Stiles, “Your dad was talking to him on his radio.”

“Get everyone back to the house, I need to know you are all safe, and that’s the safest place right now,” Stiles instructs him before hanging up.

 

Scott turns back to the room and sees the attention that their group is now getting from the rest of the student body in the cafeteria, and sees his dad striding towards them.

“SCOTT!” his dad shouts out.  Ignoring his dad he turns to his pack.

“Everybody is to get back to the house, Stiles’ orders,” he informs the pack, “Lydia, Allison, you shouldn’t have to worry about…stuff,” he doesn’t want too much more to be said in front of Liam, he nods towards the freshman, “Can you stay out of trouble?”  

“We’ll keep an eye on him,” Allison smirks as everyone starts to move.

“Hey,” Liam protests.

 

Rafe McCall starts to run towards his son and his group when they start to dart towards the other exit from the school cafeteria, only for the assembly of teenagers to erupt in laughter as he goes sprawling face first to the floor.

“Oops, sorry Mr McCall,” Allison coyly smiles down at him, “You must have tripped over my foot.”

When he gets back to his feet there is no sign of Scott, Aiden, Matt, Lahey, Whittemore, and Mahealani.

“You did that deliberately!” he turns on Allison.

“What are you talking about?”

“You let them get away!” he seethes at her, “Do you realise how much trouble you’re in?”

“Well, if I’m in trouble you’ll need to take me to the office, and have them call my father,” Allison smiles cloyingly sweetly at him.

Agent McCall looks unamused as he points back the way he had come from, and waits for Allison, Lydia, and Liam to start walking in that direction.

“And you were gonna keep an eye on me?” Liam whispers to Allison as Agent McCall marches the three of them to the principal’s office.

 

  
  


 

“Sheriff?” Jordan sharply states, trying to catch the man’s attention as he calls in the incident, “I think our talk will need to wait.”

“What is it, Parrish?” the Sheriff replies, not looking at him, adding under his breath, “If you are Parrish,” it catches Jordan off guard that he can hear it, before the man says more sternly, “I wish you’d at least put some pants on.”

“I am Parrish,” he replies, “And unless you’re carrying a spare pair of pants with you I’ll need to stay naked for now.  We have to catch up to the Impala and your nephew.”

 

“Hmph.  It might be safer letting someone else deal with Ray.”

“No!” Jordan can feel it, if they don’t go now and follow where the trail leads there is greater danger in store for Beacon Hills.  And for the sheriff’s son.

“Excuse me?”

“We have to follow him and **now** , otherwise everyone will be in danger; especially Stiles.”

The sheriff looks at his face, searching for something; something that he clearly finds.

“Get in the car,” he orders him as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

 

“Tara, this is Sheriff Stilinski.”

“Copy that,” crackles over the radio.

“Parrish and I are going in pursuit of the vehicle that… caused his crash.”

“Ten-four.”

 

  
  


 

Liam sticks behind Allison and Lydia in the office.

 

Lydia’s mother, Allison’s father, his step-dad, Matt’s mom, Agent McCall, and the principal, along with the four dumb asses and their parents, are all crammed into the office.  The noise of the squabbling adults is deafening.

“EVERYBODY SHUT UP!” screams Lydia.  All of the adults look at her in shock.

“Good,” she continues, “Now if we deal with this one thing at a time.  First, the allegation that Aiden, Matt, and little Liam here…”

“Hey!” he protests.

“So not the time,” she admonishes him, “As I was saying, let’s start with the claim that they attacked these four athletic jocks from two of the school’s sports teams.  Allison you were trying to explain something?”

“Yes, thanks,” Allison takes over, “When my Grandfather was principal security cameras were fitted around the school; after he… disappeared, following the incidents with Isaac and Scott, they were not all removed.  The camera in the corridor where the fight took place is still working.  It’s a simple matter to check the footage to see who was attacked and who was defending themselves.”

“And once that’s settled, and these four hooligans are suspended for homophobic bullying, we can deal with Agent McCall,” Lydia concludes, smiling at the principal condescendingly, like he’s an idiot.

 

Liam decides he doesn’t want to end up on the wrong side of Lydia.  He’s not sure he’d survive.

 

  
  


 

He felt it, something had happened.  There was a shift in the pack dynamic.  Derek knew.  

 

He knew that Stiles was in trouble and… the glass of water he was holding slipped from his hand; crashing to the floor the glass shattering, flying in all directions, as the water splashes back onto his feet.  Ethan looks at him with a stricken expression, clutching at his stomach.

 

Derek ignores the glass and water, he runs to Ethan’s side, helping him up from where he stumbled and helping him back to his room.

“Ray…” Ethan gasps, “Derek, I felt it… I…”

“I know,” is all Derek says as the rest of the pack comes crashing through the door.

“ **Danny, call Deaton, tell him Ethan needs him here now!** ” Derek commands his beta, “Scott, Jackson, and Isaac check on the kids in the nursery.  Aiden help Ethan to your room, and on to the bed.  Matt, there’s a broken glass in the kitchen that needs cleaned up.”

“Where are you going?” Scott asks him.

“To find our Master,” he says, stripping out of the jeans and t-shirt he’s wearing and shifting to his full wolf form; and then, with a flick of his tail he runs out the door, knowing with a certainty where the threat to his pack and their Master was.

 

  
  


 

Peter doesn’t have long.  He knew that once he injected the Sidhe lord with the concoction it would send a shockwave through the pack; alerting them all to a threat to their Master.  But he needed to ensure that Stiles remained unconscious long enough to transport him back nearer to his Sithen and possibly within its influence.  Depending on how strong the ‘little lord’ is.

 

Still, the iron in the serum should keep him weak enough without killing him that he and the Sithen won’t be a threat.  But the lay lines he need are within the old barn that his sister used to hold gatherings with the werewolf packs that came to seek her counsel.  It gives him no choice but to risk stepping onto land that the Sithen may affect.

 

And he might have less time than he hoped.  If Reamann had given his oath to Stiles, then the pack may have felt his death.  He needs to complete the preparations.  The Queen has only given him enough power to do this once.  He has one shot at sending Stiles to her, and in the Fae lord’s weakened state she will strip him of everything he has.  And with him gone Peter can take the pack, and show his nephew who the alpha is; and always was.

 

  
  


 

They found Ray’s body, his head a few feet from the torso.  There was no sign of Stiles, or the Impala.  But Stiles jeep was parked outside the building.  The ground soaked in rust; red iron oxide.  It was inside the building too.

 

“We have to move, we have to catch up to them before it’s too late,” Parrish said to him.

“Catch up to who?” John asks him, “Who’s taken my son?!”

“I don’t know,” his still naked deputy replies, “And before you ask, I don’t know how I know we need to hurry or where we need to hurry to; I just do.”

 

They are back in the cruiser and Parrish is directing him, heading towards the edge of the Hale lands along the preserve.  They get so far when they can’t take the car any further, the Impala too has been abandoned and they park beside it.  They quickly check out the car and call it in to the station before heading into the preserve on foot; John carrying the shotgun and shells that he got from Chris.

 

Parrish is faster than he’s sure is humanly possible.  Every so often stopping waiting on him.

“We really need to hurry, it’s almost too late,” he’s saying as a large black wolf races past them, stops and turns to look at them and turns into a naked Derek Hale.

“The old barn, we need to hurry,” he says and turns and runs.  Parrish easily keeping up with the werewolf, until he stops and waits on him again.

 

  
  


 

Derek rushes in the barn and jumps on his dead uncle, knocking him to the ground and away from Stiles.

 

They roll, until Peter is on his back on the ground and Derek is on top of him pinning him down.

“Peter,” Derek growls into his face, “You were dead!”

“I know nephew, I was there when you ripped my throat out at the behest of your unconscious friend here,” he replies, nodding his head in Stiles direction.

Derek feels his head become heavy, his balance a little off.  He shakes his head to try and clear the sensation.

“That will be the aconite taking affect,” his uncle smiles up at him.  Derek looks down to Peter’s gloved hand and sees the thin blade held there.

 

  
  


 

Parrish is running, he couldn’t wait on the sheriff any longer, he may already be too late; he has to run.  He feels the wind brush over his body as he moves faster than he has ever run before.

 

  
  


 

Stiles groggily opens his eyes. He feels heavy, weighed down, and as uncoordinated as a new-born foal.  He staggers to his feet and looks around him.  Derek is fighting with Peter; and after what Peter said at the old warehouse he has to be the Death that Ray… Ray, **Peter has killed Ray!**

Stiles knows that Derek killed Peter; Chris Argent helped him get rid of the body, they buried him under one of the trees in the preserve not far from… the Nemeton.  He didn’t know about the Nemeton then, but now he knows there was a portal to the Unseelie Court there.  It was used by the Fae to return there after the Morrigan commanded them back to the Court.  Are all Deaths that the Queen commands… dead?  What does that mean for Ethan and Aiden? For Boyd, Erica and Cora?

 

His thoughts are brought back to the fight when he hears Derek roar in pain.

 

He rushes across the expanse of the empty barn towards them; then he stops, frozen as the unseen glyph etched in the floor flares to life.

“See nephew,” Peter smiles into Derek’s ear as he presses himself against his naked back, holding him down, “I told you that your pathetic little pack master wouldn’t be able to save you now.”

“What do you want?” Derek turns his head and snarls, the venom still working its way through his body, keeping him weak.

“I want what is mine!” Peter growls at him, “and when I send this fairy back to through the hedge I will take what is mine.  I am the alpha of the Hale pack.  But don’t worry Derek, I’ll take good care of your mates.  Scott must be near his heat again, I’ll take Very Good Care of him; I can’t wait to see his belly swollen with my pups.”

 

Parrish rushes through the door, barrelling towards Stiles frozen in the glyph, he leaps in an attempt to knock him out of the magical sigil only to become immobile himself.

 

The glyph flashes and Stiles and Parrish are gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpts from Chapter-10
> 
> Derek howls in anguish as his Master vanished from sight in a flash of light that scorched the ground. He rounds on Peter, struggling to free himself from his grasp, throwing himself back in an attempt to shake his uncle off. But the poison in his body continues to weaken him.  
> “No nephew,” Peter softly whispers in his ear, “I’m the alpha, I was always the alpha.”  
> “ **No,** ” Derek snarls, “You’re just insane.”  
> The gunshot hitting the ground inches from Derek’s and Peter’s heads stops any retort Peter was going to make.  
>   
> “ **You, are gonna get off the alpha of my son’s pack, and then you are going to undo whatever the hell you did!** ” the sheriff barks at Peter. When he sees both Derek and Peter sniff at the air he continues, “I’m sure he recognise the smell of the Nordic Blue, just to be on the safe side Chris Argent kindly mixed up a special batch mixed with Ferrous Oxide; after the Morrigan sent her Deaths last time we wanted to be prepared.”  
> 
> 
>   
> +-----+-----+-----+-----+  
> 
> 
>   
> “So, back to my questions,” Stiles begins as he pushes himself up off the ground, “Where are we? And dead or not? And are those stars moving?” he asks as he feels a light wind rush past him.  
> “We’re in the deep between, and those are moving, but they ain’t stars,” Parrish agitatedly states as he stands, “And we need to run, we need to find the path that leads to the hedge before they catch us.” He takes off at a rapid pace, heading away from the lights coming to them.  
> “What are they?” Stiles shouts as he takes off after him.  
> “Soul Eaters.”
> 
> Stiles manages to keep pace with Parrish, and not get too distracted by his cute butt, when they both come skidding to a halt. Ahead of them a large moving mass of red and black.  
> “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Stiles swears, “A fucking dragon?” As the large head of gnarled ashen black and molten red scaly skin lowers itself in their way, its large nostrils billowing smoke as it opens its mouth and rows of white dagger sharp teeth come into view.  
> 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unbeta's, so all mistakes are purely my own.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

Derek howls in anguish as his Master vanishes from sight in a flash of light that scorches the ground.  He rounds on Peter, struggling to free himself from his grasp, throwing himself back in an attempt to shake his uncle off.  But the poison in his body continues to weaken him.

“No nephew,” Peter softly whispers in his ear, “I’m the **alpha** , I was always the **alpha**.”

“ **No** ,” Derek snarls, “You’re just insane.”

The gunshot hitting the ground inches from Derek’s and Peter’s heads stops any retort Peter was going to make.

 

“ **You, are gonna get off the alpha of my son’s pack, and then you are going to undo whatever the hell you did!** ” the sheriff barks at Peter.  When he sees both Derek and Peter sniff at the air he continues, “I’m sure you recognise the smell of the Nordic Blue; just to be on the safe side Chris Argent kindly mixed up a special batch mixed with Ferrous Oxide; after the Morrigan sent her Deaths last time we wanted to be prepared.”

“My dear Sheriff, you’re almost as cunning as a fox,” Peter smilingly replies as he slowly rises off Derek and stands with his hands raised, with palms facing the Sheriff, at shoulder height.

“Yeah, one who's just been appointed Professor of Cunning at Oxford University,” John replies.  “Derek?” John calls to him when sees he hasn’t moved.

“The wolfsbane in his bloodstream, from the wound inflicted with the knife lying there,” Peter says pointing to the blade he dropped in his struggle with Derek, “Has probably rendered him unconscious now, it would be a mercy to let me rip his throat out like he did to me.”

“Stay back from him,” he demands as Peter moved to kneel down at Derek’s side.

 

As John moves to retrieve the knife Peter makes his move.  With John momentarily looking at the blade Peter leaps to grab the shotgun.  John sees the movement out of the corner of his eye and turns back Peter pulls the barrel of the shotgun the second shell fires as John’s fingers are covering the trigger and he pulls it back as Peter tries to yank the gun from his hand as he tries to hold on.

 

The shot catches Peter on his side, and he roars in pain as the wolfsbane floods through him, and the iron weakens him because of the Fae infused life he has.  He throws the sheriff back, knocking him unconscious against a support strut in barn.

 

He turns to deal with Derek and take back the alpha power, but before he can a roar at the doorway signals the arrival of more of the pack.  The silver eyed Scott is rushing towards him, and two betas are behind him.  Peter knows in his current condition he can’t win, he takes his only option.

 

Lifting Derek he throws him at the advancing pack wolves and flees.

 

  
  


 

He’s gone.

 

It’s the single thought running through John Stilinski’s head.  He’s gone.  Stiles is gone; and he doesn’t know what to do.  Peter fucking Hale has to be found.  Without him they can’t find out what he did to Stiles, and Parrish, and until they know exactly what he did Deaton says they won’t even know if they are alive.

 

He sits on the edge of the bed in the cabin he shares with Melissa at the back of the pack’s Sithen; unable to even think of moving.  The tears fall, rolling down his cheeks and he can’t stop them, can’t hold them back; he doesn’t know how to.  He’s lost his son; his son.  And he doesn’t know if he will ever see him again.

 

  
  


 

“I don’t think we have much choice,” Scott hears his mother harshly state in the corridor outside the pack room where he is with Isaac and Derek.

“I’m not sure that we can trust him,” Chris replies, “He…”

“John is in no state to hunt down Peter Hale, Stiles and Parrish are missing, Derek is unconscious and could be for days,” Scott whines at his mom’s words and pulls himself closer to his mate on the bed, Isaac does likewise on the other side of Derek, “Ethan is in early labour, and he must already be aware of Ray’s decapitated body at the warehouse and Stiles jeep being there,” she continues, “John already said that Rafe suspected Stiles was Fae, and as things stand we are going to need his help to protect this pack, all of this pack.  If he’s a threat the Sithen will know.”

 

Scott rises from the bed.  Isaac reaches out to him, not wanting him to leave; he takes his hand in his and kisses the back of his knuckles.

“I’ll be back, I just need to go check on everyone,” he smiles to his mate, even though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and walks out to the hall where his mom and Chris are… discussing their situation.  He needs to step up and take the lead, he’s the pack’s other alpha; without Stiles and with Derek recovering – and he will recover, Scott won’t accept anything else – he needs to be the one to make the decisions that affect the pack.

 

“My mom’s right,” he says, “We need to tell my dad about Peter, and about what’s going on.  He’ll need to lead the investigation into what happened to Ray, Parrish, and Stiles; at least for now.  I guess we’ll need to let him know he’s a granddad too.”

“Scott, I don’t think…” Chris begins.

“It’s his job isn’t it, to investigate crimes involving the supernatural and make sure that they don’t alert the muggle population to the fact we exist,” he interrupts, “I need to go check on the rest of the pack, can both of you bring my dad here?”

“Scott…” Chris starts again.

“Right now, I’m the alpha, the decision is made,” he cuts him off and turning away he heads towards Ethan’s room.

 

As he gets to the door he hears Ethan screaming from inside.  He’s a couple of weeks early, or three months if you don’t count accelerated pregnancy that the Sithen gave him.  No-one knows why the Sithen halved the duration of his pregnancy.  They’re not sure they will ever know.  Stiles was concerned about trying to hide another male pregnancy – he was already using glamour to hide his changed features – and Ethan missing a few weeks due to ‘ _illness_ ’ is going to be easier to cover up than his baby bump filled with eight cubs.  So overall the quickened pregnancy works out for them.

 

He walks into the room and Aiden is holding Ethan’s hand while Matt helps Deaton with the deliveries.  Jackson and Danny are off to one side; Danny holding Jackson close.  He walks over to where they are standing against the wall.

“For a submissive you can be quite bossy when you need to be,” Danny smirks at him, at his confused look Danny continues, “We heard you pull the alpha card on Chris.  So, how’s Derek?”

“He’s still unconscious, but looking better,” he replies, “I was thinking we’d all sleep in the pack room tonight.”

“I think we’ll all feel better doing that,” Danny says, and Scott can see the worry etched around his eyes over Stiles.

“We’ll get our Master back,” he says.  Danny and Jackson don’t reply, they just pull him close until he’s hugging and nuzzling them both.

 

“That’s number eight,” Deaton says, Scott looks over his shoulder where he’s holding a little boy over to Matt, who takes him and cleans him before placing him in the basket beside his siblings.  Scott walks over to look at the eight new babies in the pack that he and Jackson will need to provide milk for, along with the other nine babies and two littles (one only occasionally) that their milk feeds.  There’s an even split of girls and boys.  He turns to Ethan and smiles.

“They’re beautiful,” he says kissing him on the lips, “How are you feeling?”

“Tired and sore,” Ethan smiles back.

“I know how exhausted I was after giving birth to four of them,” Jackson quips, “Thank the Goddess for werewolf healing and stamina.”

 

Ethan reaches over into the basket, his hand caressing each of his kids.  The children he had never been able to have while in the Queen’s Court.  As part of this pack he’d been able to finally know that he wasn’t the reason that he never conceived during his previous heats.  It was the Queen and her Court that were barren.  Here he finally had the family he wanted, with his pack and his mates…

“What’s wrong?” the concern clear in Aiden’s voice.

“Ethan?” Scott asks, his hand stroking Ethan’s hair.

“I was just thinking,” he starts to reply, “You, Jackson, and Isaac let the fathers name their children…”

“Yeah,” Scott and Jackson reply simultaneously.

“Who’s gonna name Ray’s children?”

The rest of the pack exchange a glance at Ethan’s question.

“We all will,” Scott replies, “When Stiles is back, we’ll all think of names and write them down, and you’ll pick the ones you like best.  That sound good?” he smiles at Ethan.  Everyone can pick up on the worry that is emanating from each of them over the fate of their master.

“Yeah,” Ethan smiles back.

 

"We should give Ethan some time to rest and bond with his babies,” Deaton suddenly says, “And I want to check on Derek again before I go.”

“Okay Doc,” Scott replies.  When Deaton heads into the corridor, Scott, Jackson, and Danny follow; leaving Aiden and Matt with Ethan and the babies.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about Stiles,” Deaton says as they walk along the corridor.

“Why?” Jackson snaps at him.

“Because of where we are,” Deaton replies.

“In the corridor?” Scott asks confused about what Deaton means.

“No,” Deaton says looking at Scott disappointedly, “But where the corridor is, in Stiles’ Sithen.  Think of the Sithen as being like a manifestation Stiles’ Id with very powerful magic at its control.  It serves Stiles, and can do so without his conscious thought as it knows his primal desires and basic nature; but it is also tied to his wellbeing.  If Stiles is well, then the Sithen is well…”

“And if the Sithen is well, so is Stiles,” Danny says, “The Sithen is an extension of Stiles.”

“Yes, and no,” Deaton comments, “Now let’s check on your alpha.”

 

  
  


 

When Chris pulls his car alongside the two police cruisers, the medical examiners vehicle and one black SUV it is clear that Rafe and his team have not been here long.  Ray’s body is still being examined by the ME, and Stiles’ jeep is still being dusted for prints.

 

Melissa gets out of the passenger door and starts towards the line of tape marking off the crime scene.

“Rafe,” she calls out, “We need to talk.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he replies as he walks towards the barrier, “Neither of you.”

“I’m sure you already know the victim is Stiles’ cousin Ray,” Chris says, “And that is Stiles’ jeep.”

“And, you’re going to need to know some stuff, stuff that we can’t tell you, to help solve this,” Melissa says, “But we’re here to take you to someone that can.”

“Who?” he asks, suspicion clearly evident.

“Scott,” she says.

 

Rafe expected her to say Stiles or Derek’s name.  He can’t keep the shock off his face at her words.

 

  
  


 

As he follows Melissa and Chris up the solid wooden stairs to the large house he knows that it must take a lot of power to hide this from the normal world.

“Scott?” Melissa calls out as they walk through the double front door into the lavish hall.

“Erm… in here mom, but you should know a couple of little ones got hungry so…” Scott’s voice calls from a room through a double arch.  Rafe follows Melissa and the sound of the Scott’s voice.  

“Maybe we should come back when you’re finished,” Melissa says stopping in the archway.

“What the…” the words stall in his throat as he stops behind her and catches the sight ahead.  Scott, sitting in a chair, his shirt open, and a baby on each knee suckling at his… at his son’s nipples.

“Not how I planned this meeting to start off,” Scott says with lopsided worried grimace on his face as his eyebrows search for his hairline, he shifts position on the chair and the child on his left starts to grumble and cry before it settles down and starts feeding again, “But you know how it is when your five month old sons decide they want food.  So dad, meet your grandsons; this is Michael,” he says smiling down to the one on his left, “The demanding grumpy one, I think he takes after his father, and this quiet little angel is Lucas,” he smiles down to his right.

“I doubt anyone’s called you demanding or grumpy,” Rafe says to his son, at the look he gets from his ex-wife and his son he realises that Scott wasn’t referring to himself, “You didn’t mean you.”

“No, dad.  I carried these two inside me for six months as they grew, I gave birth to them, and I’m one of their fathers, but…”

“You’re a werewolf, an omega werewolf; you’re their omega-father,” Rafe says almost to himself.

“Yes, my mate, Derek, is their grumpy dad I was talking about.  I think you should sit down while I bring you up to speed on everything, and especially on what you need to know to catch Ray’s killer and Stiles’ kidnapper.”

 

Rafe tries not to fall into the seat across from his son – his omega werewolf son he reminds himself – getting his head round the fact he’s a grandfather, to twin werewolf grandsons, he’s not sure he can take any more getting up to speed.

“So, what else has everyone been keeping from me?” he asks anyway.

 

  
  


 

Stiles lands hard on something.  Opening his eyes everything around him is black.  He’s about to push himself up off the ground – is it ground? He can’t be sure what he’s landed on – when he hears a yell and something crash lands on his back knocking him flat again.

 

He turns his head to see who is lying sprawled on his back.

“Just what I need,” he moans, “A naked deputy McCutie-Butt, who’s not dead, on my back.”  Because it’s not like he hadn’t noticed before that Parrish has a cute butt, and Ray clearly didn’t kill him like he thought; the fact that he can clearly see Parrish’s cute butt surprises him, because given the blackness of everything how is the light coming from those stars bright enough that he can even see Parrish?

 

Parrish groans behind him.

“Hey, you want me to get you a ladder so you can get off my back?” Stiles jests at him, “I need to figure out where we are, so I can get us back; and also so I can set Peter Hale on fire.  Again.”

“That makes no sense,” Parrish retorts, as he rolls off Stiles and rises himself up to sit on the ground and looks around them, “Why would I need a ladder?  And I know where we are.”

“No, that was a… never mind.  So Ray didn’t kill you like he thought, and you know where we are?”

“I’m not sure about the first one, and yes.”

“Wanna clue a guy in, to both of those answers?”

“Shouldn’t that be ‘ _clue a Sidhe Lord, or Sith Lord, in?_ ’,” Parrish retorts turning his head to look at Stiles, “Your glamour isn’t working here.”

“Shit!” Stiles exclaims, turning to look over his shoulder and realising that his hair is long and his wings are showing, “Are my eyes showing too?”

“All three colours,” Parrish answers.

 

“Okay, so ignoring that for the minute,  back to my questions,” Stiles begins as he pushes himself up off the ground, “Where are we?  And dead or not?  And are those stars moving?” he asks as he feels a light wind rush past him.

“We’re in the deep between, and those are moving, but they ain’t stars,” Parrish agitatedly states as he stands, “And we need to run, we need to find the path that leads to the hedge before they catch us.”  He takes off at a rapid pace, heading away from the lights coming to them.

“If they’re not stars, what are they?” Stiles shouts as he takes off after him.

“Soul Eaters.”

 

Stiles manages to keep pace with Parrish, and not get too distracted by his cute butt, when they both come skidding to a halt.  Ahead of them a large moving mass of red and black.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Stiles swears, “A fucking dragon?”  As the large head of gnarled ashen black and molten red scaly skin lowers itself in their way, its large nostrils billowing smoke as it opens its mouth and rows of white dagger sharp teeth comes into view.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-11
> 
>   
>  “Man, what have you gotten yourself into?” Mason asks him they sit in his room, supposedly doing homework; Liam figured he might as well keep up with his school work, and Mason and he have paper to write and present.  
> “What was I supposed to do, let two of Sean’s asshole buddies beat the crap out of Matt, while Sean and another of his friends did the same to Aiden?” he asks his friend.  
> “No, but…”  
> “But what?”  
> “I don’t know, but…”  
> “I don’t know either, now can we get back the paper we’re to write?” Liam cuts Mason off, “What subject did we get?”  
> “Global warming is a world problem and needs to be stopped,” Mason reads from his notes, “Present an argument for or against the statement, give facts, examples, illustrations, evidence, and citations to support your argument.”  
> “Where do we start?”  
> “We need to google it for some ideas,” Mason answers as he pushes his chair over to Liam’s computer, and starts up the browser. Liam immediately realises that he didn’t close the web page he was looking at this morning after his shower, he’d only minimised it. He feels his heart leap into his throat and his face explode in heat.  
>   
> “Something you wanna tell me bro?” Mason asks as he takes in the sight of the page titled ‘Secret Desires of the Seemingly Innocent’.  
> 
> 
> \---------------
> 
> “Stiles, get down!” Parrish called out pushing Stiles to the ground and covering him with his naked body as the red hot flames lick over them and sail on towards the approaching creatures.  
> The soul eaters don’t look anything like the obsidian spider-like creature that had been attached to his back and he fought and killed Deucalion with; then fought and killed. They are more bloated and stretched thin so that the light in them is shining through. As the flames from the dragon’s breath barrels into the creatures the stretched black skin ignites in flames, the bodies popping and bursting; the orbs of light darting away from the creatures and the flames.  
>   
> “What are they?” Stiles instinctively asks, as his eyes track the glowing orbs.  
> “They’re the souls waiting to be reborn,” Parrish replies, “Though trapped within the banes, being slowly devoured by them, they never would be.”  
>   
> 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unbeta's, so all mistakes are purely my own.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

“Stiles, get down!” Parrish called out pushing Stiles to the ground and covering him with his naked body as the red hot flames lick over them and sail on towards the approaching creatures.

The soul eaters don’t look anything like the obsidian spider-like creature that had been attached to his back by Deucalion and that he then used to fight and kill him with; and then fought and killed.  They are more bloated and their skin is stretched so thin that the light in them is shining through.  As the flames from the dragon’s breath barrels into the creatures the stretched black skin ignites in flames, the bodies popping and bursting; the orbs of light darting away from the flames.

 

“What are they?” Stiles instinctively asks, as his eyes track the glowing orbs.

“They’re the souls waiting to be reborn,” Parrish replies, “Though trapped within the banes, and being slowly devoured by them, they never would be.”

“That’s… that’s horrible,” he replies as he watches the remaining soul eaters… banes – whatever – flee from the dragon, “I think it’s safe to get off me now,” he says to Parrish.

“Not exactly,” Parrish replies, but he slips off Stiles’ back and puts himself between Stiles and the dragon; pulling Stiles tight against his back.  Stiles can feel his crotch pressed against the very naked butt of the deputy, and his hands holding Parrish’s very naked hips, as Parrish slowly edges them backwards; away from the dragon.

“Erm… Parrish?” he starts to ask.

“Not now Stiles,” Parrish replies as Stiles’ words seem to have settled the dragon’s focus back on them.

 

“ **SIDHE!** ” the dragon snarls with its teeth bared, “ **PREPARE TO DIE!** ”  The heat from its breath wrapping around them, as it moves towards them, both warms Stiles and chills him with fear.

“ **Dad, no!** ” Parrish shouts at the dragon.

“ **IORDANES, WHY DO YOU PROTECT THE SIDHE?** ”

“ **He’s an innocent, he didn’t kill mom; Morrigan is trying to have him killed too.** ”

 

Stiles mouth hangs open as he clings to Parrish’s back and the only thought going round his head is ‘ **What the fuck!’**

 

  
  


 

Rafe McCall is sitting in the chair in the living room of his rented apartment; it’s been a rough day, between dealing with the mess at the school and trying to take in all that he has finally found out.

 

Scott and his… pack… nearly got suspended for leaving school when they should have been in classes, but given the attack on Aiden and Matt he suggested that the school wouldn’t want to have a reputation for punishing its minority students for defending themselves from bullying, and given how close the friends were – if only he had known – it shouldn’t be surprising that they may have all felt the need to be together if they didn’t feel safe on school grounds.  Surely the school could over look this one lapse and maybe given them detention, for a week, when they returned tomorrow.

 

Then he finds out that he’s a granddad.  His seventeen year old son is an omega-alpha werewolf – had been bitten by Peter Hale – and has given birth to twin werewolf sons to his mate – Derek Hale – after his first heat.

 

He stands up, walks through to the kitchen and over to the wall cabinet.  Taking down the bottle of scotch that’s been in there since he first took on the lease of the fully furnished apartment he is so very tempted.  He walks over to sink and pours the contents of the bottle out, like he should have done when he first found the bottle.  Setting the empty bottle aside he leans against the sink, his head falling forward in defeat.

“Damn it!” he curses to the room.  Instead of using Scott’s willingness to talk to him to repair his relationship with his son, as Scott told him what had happened over the past year, and what the Sheriff had told them about the events earlier, his reaction has only damaged it more.  He doubts his earlier action at the school of convincing the principal not to suspend them for leaving the school when they should be in classes, and he may also have suggested that they wouldn’t want the school to have a reputation for not being able to protect its minority students from bullying, will help in any way to patch-up things between them.

 

_ Matt Daehler came bounding into the room, the first thing that Rafe noticed was the tail wagging as it stuck out the hole in the back of the shorts he was wearing. _

_ “We’ve moved the cots and the other babies into the pack room,” Matt enthused, “Except Ethan’s.  They’re still in his room with him and Aiden.” _

_ “Okay, we can move everyone into the room when we bed down for the night,” Scott replies smiling at the boy. _

_ “What has he done to you?” Rafe shouts at Matt, the roughness of his voice startling the babies in Scott’s arms. _

_ “Dad!  I’d like to get these two settled so they don’t keep the other seven… fifteen up during the night.” ” Scott admonishes him, as Matt asks, “What’s who done?” _

_ “Fifteen?  How many kids have you had?” he barks at Scott before turning to Matt yelling, “And you can’t tell me that Stilinski hasn’t made you a beast changeling of some kind!” _

_ The twins in Scott’s arms were both crying now, screaming their displeasure at level of his voice. _

_ “Our Master did not make Matt anything!” Scott seethes at him, his eyes burning silver as he continues, “Matt changed himself.” _

_ “Master?  Stilinski is your werewolf pack’s Master?” he asks over the screaming of his grandsons. _

_ “Matt, mom, can you take Lucas and Michael to my room; see if Isaac and Jackson can calm them down.”  Scott hands the babies over, “Chris…” _

_ “I’ll go check on John,” Chris says following the changeling and Melissa out. _

_ “Look son I don’t think…” _

_ “No, I didn’t think this through before asking mom to bring you here,” Scott cuts him off, “I thought maybe that you’d actually want to help my pack.  There’s a formerly dead werewolf out there that is threatening my pack, has killed Ray and sent our Pack Master through some portal.  I thought that your job was to investigate crimes involving the supernatural world and help keep us safe and the rest of the world from realising we aren’t like them.” _

_ “It is,” he says firmly, “And I will track down Peter Hale, and if he killed the Fae he will pay.  But you don’t realise the effect being under a Pack Master, especially one that’s a Fae from the Unseelie Court, can have.  His magic can control you, make you do things, accept things, that you wouldn’t if you were in your right mind.  That’s why the Accords were drawn up, and that’s why the Fae have to remain in their courts in Arcadia.” _

_ “Stiles isn’t like that!  Everything we do we consent, he checks before, during and after, we all have the right to say no.” _

_ “Scott, you might think…” _

_“_ **_Know!_ ” **

_ “I…” _

“Dad, I don’t think, I **_know_** Stiles isn’t like that.  He’s been my best friend since kindergarten and I know him, and I love him.  We want him back here with us, and if you won’t help find him and bring him back, then you better leave.”

 

He didn’t get a chance to reply.  Some force dragged him out of the Sithen and left him somewhere in the preserve.  He couldn’t find his way back to it, and had to walk to the edge of the preserve to get a signal on his phone to call for one of his agents to pick him up.

He’s worried now about just how much John Stilinski’s son has affected Scott and his pack, and how much of the Fae’s influence his ex-wife and the sheriff are under.  He knows he needs to ensure that the Accords are kept and that Stiles is returned to the Unseelie Court.  Only then will there be any chance of undoing what’s he done to them.

 

  
  


 

The whole school is apparently talking about how he’s part of Stilinski’s gang – even though he’s not – and that they got Sean and his friends a ten day suspension for a homophobic attack.  Of course he, Aiden and Matt have been given a two day suspension for fighting, it could have been more except that Agent McCall smoothed things over with the principal.

He could feel the glares and stares that he got as he was walking through the corridors when he was leaving with his stepdad after Allison, Lydia and he left the principal’s office.  As Allison and Lydia returned to class and he was escorted from the building he never got to ask them what was going on.  If he was as much a part of Stilinski’s gang as everyone assumes then maybe he would have some clue about why Stilinski’s cousin Ray attacked and has possibly killed Deputy Parrish.

 

“Man, what have you gotten yourself into?” Mason asks him they sit in his room, supposedly doing homework; Liam figured he might as well keep up with his school work, and Mason and he have paper to write and present.

“What was I supposed to do, let two of Sean’s asshole buddies beat the crap out of Matt, while Sean and another of his friends did the same to Aiden?” he asks his friend.

“No, but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, but…”

“I don’t know either, now can we get back the paper we’re to write?” Liam cuts Mason off, “What subject did we get?”

“Global warming is a world problem and needs to be stopped,” Mason reads from his notes, “Present an argument for or against the statement, give facts, examples, illustrations, evidence, and citations to support your argument.”

“Where do we start?”

“We need to google it for some ideas,” Mason answers as he pushes his chair over to Liam’s computer, and starts up the browser.  Liam immediately realises that he didn’t close the web page he was looking at this morning after his shower, he’d only minimised it.  He feels his heart leap into his throat and his face explode in heat.

 

“Something you wanna tell me bro?” Mason asks as he takes in the sight of the page titled ‘Secret Desires of the Seemingly Innocent’.  There’s a video playing on loop, thankfully the sound is muted.  It shows a naked guy, wearing a collar and with his hands tied behind his back; he has a very hard leaking boner and is kneeling over the lap of a slightly older clothed guy who is spanking and fingering the naked guy’s ass.

 

Liam pushes past Mason to get to the computer and shuts down the web page before fleeing back to his bed, pulling his knees up to his chest and ducking his head down as he wraps his arms around his legs.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” he begs, trying to hold back the crying.

 

Mason had been kinda joking, thinking that the site had been a pop-up from some misdirected link or that his friend had stumbled on it accidently; but his reaction told him neither of those were the case.

“Are you gay?” he asks, part of him furious at his friend if he is for not telling him, Liam knows that he is, “And are you into… this?” he adds pointing to the screen that no longer has the spanking video playing.

“I…” Liam looks at his friend fearfully, “I don’t know… no, maybe?”

“Maybe? To which question?”

“Both…”

 

“I want details,” Mason announces with a maniacal smile as he bounces onto the bed beside his friend, “Come on; spill.”

“Arrgh,” Liam grumbles as he flops back on the bed and covers his face with his hands, “I can’t…”

“Come on, it’s not like I’m gonna judge; much,” Mason teases him.

“Mace!” Liam whines, the red blush heating his face.

“It’s not as if I don’t tell you about guys I fancy, so come on, what’s got you looking at videos of naked teenage boys getting spanked, **by other guys** , while the spanker sticks his fingers in their ass?”

Liam realises that his friend isn’t going to give up until he tells him something, and maybe since he still hasn’t been able to talk with Aiden – the only other person he thinks might like this stuff – talking to Mason about some of his confusion might help.

 

"I don't know…” Liam starts, but talking about it isn’t easy and the words dry up in his throat.

“If you don’t want to…” Mason starts to say; the hurt he’s feeling that Liam can’t talk to him clear in the dejection in his body language.

“It’s just that I don’t know if I’m gay, bi, just curious, or if it’s just one guy I like, and I don’t know if I like that stuff, or just the idea of it…” he suddenly blurts out, “And I keep having these dreams about the deputy from the night I bust up the coach’s car.  I’m just so confused, and I don’t know anyone who is into it that I could talk to, and I don’t know if that would help or just confuse me more.”

“So, does deputy McDreamy spank you in these dreams?  Did he bad-touch you that night?”

“What no!  He didn’t do anything… but yeah, in my dreams he does… and now he might be dead…”

Liam can see the dawning realisation on Mason’s face…

“That’s why you jumped into the fight with Aiden, because of his tattoo that everyone’s talking about!  Do you think he bends over Stilinski’s knee naked and gets spanked?”

“Can we get back to global warming?” Liam groans, “I don’t want to think about that.”

“You mean you don’t want to think about that until later when you’re alone,” Mason laughs, “We’ll need to find some way to get you an in with Stilinski and his friends, ‘cause my fantasies have been strictly vanilla.”

“Well right now we need to get back to homework before mom or dad comes to check up,” he replies rising from the bed while covering his reaction to the thought of Aiden over Stiles knee.

 

  
  


 

The cots are placed around the large pack bed, the seventeen babies all finally settled down for the night.  Derek didn’t wake from the noise of them screaming in distress; both from the general unease in the pack due to Stiles being missing, Ray being dead, and Derek unconscious as he recovers from the poison Peter used on him, and from the upset Scott’s dad caused to Michael and Lucas.  And to Scott too.

 

The pack are all clustered around their alpha.  Each of them in some contact with him, and with their mates.  At least their mates that are here.

 

Ray may not truly have been Aiden and Ethan’s mate, but the bond had felt real even if it was due to the Queen’s magic.  The hurt the lie has caused them, and the loss his death has caused them still resonates in their hearts and thoughts; whether they both choose to acknowledge it or not.

 

Wherever Stiles is Jackson and Danny won’t believe that he is gone for good.  They know that he’ll be doing all he can to return to them and their pack.  And if Agent McCall won’t help return him to them, they and the pack will do whatever they can to bring him home safe.

 

  
  


 

“You’ve failed me Charming Death,” the Queen seethes through the mirror, “My nephew is not here, and inform me that my grandson is dead.  **Killed by your hand**.  Something that I did not sanction.”

“I performed the ritual to send your nephew exactly as you instructed my Queen, and I had no choice in killing Reamann; he had betrayed you and had sworn an oath of allegiance to your nephew,” Peter evenly replies.

“ **You do not kill Sidhe of my court except on my instruction,** ” she screams at him, “ **Is that clear?** ”

“Yes my Queen.”

“And you could not have performed the ritual correctly, he is not here!”

“The location of the ley-lines must have been too close to his Sithen, and it is somehow hiding him from you.  I can break the pack and the Sithen if you send me some of your…”

“I will **not** send you any other Death.  You will use some of my agents that are already in that realm.”

“Does their presence not contravene the Accords?” 

“No my Death it does not, they are not Fae of my Court or of the Seelie Court.  I have not broken the oath sworn on the Accords.  My changelings will be with you soon.  Do not fail me again.”

 

The mirror darkens and the Queen vanishes from view.  With these reinforcements Peter knows he can capture the pack one by one, and prove to them that he is the alpha they need to obey.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-12
> 
>   
>  She is the Queen of the Unseelie.  
>   
> She is the only one that can if one of her Sidhe is to be executed.  
>   
> She will ensure that the upstart Death learns what it means to defy her.  
>   
> She has contacted her changelings that reside in the mortal realm. Her Wizened, her Beast, her Darkling, her Fairest, and her Ogre. They will seek out her Charming Death and ensure that he finds and sends the Sidhe Lord to her. It is clear that Tighearnach cares deeply for the wolves; the wolves that her Death so badly wants.  
>   
> So her instructions to her pets has been very precise. Destroy them all, each and every one. That will encourage the little Lord to seek out her Death, and then her pets will ensure that he is sent to her properly.  
>   
>   
> 
> 
> +-----+-----+-----+-----+
> 
> “I swore I would deliver retribution on the Sidhe of the Unseelie Court for the death of my mate,” the dragon roars before them, “And while one of the Morrigan’s court still live I have failed.”  
> “I’m not Unseelie,” Stiles pipes up from behind Parrish’s broad bare back, “I’m from Beacon Hills, where I live with my dad, who’s human, my mates, and my pack of werewolves.”  
> “You smell of her bloodline,” Parrish’s dad, the dragon – Stiles still has trouble wrapping his head around that – rumbles.  
> “She is my great, great, aunt, on my mother’s side, but I’ve never been to the Unseelie, or the Seelie, Court, and I have never sworn loyalty to either of them. I’m my own fairy,” Stiles states wishing he could gage how pissed off the dragon was, but he’s never met a dragon before can can’t tell if this one’s angry at him – for something he had nothing to do with – or if that’s just how they look.  
> “So you are of her family,” the dragon roars, “Then maybe, at your death, she’ll feel some of the loss I have endured…”  
> 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are purely my own.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
>   
> 

“Seriously!” Stiles shouts at Parrish’s ear, “Your father is a dragon that lives in the deep between?”

“Now isn’t the time Stiles,” Parrish retorts; he knows how feral his father became when his mother was killed, his bloodlust in hunting down and killing any and all Sidhe, and any Fae that got in his way.

“I swore I would deliver retribution on the Sidhe of the Unseelie Court for the death of my mate,” the dragon roars before them, “And while one of the Morrigan’s court still live I have failed.”

“I’m not Unseelie,” Stiles pipes up from behind Parrish’s broad bare back, “I’m from Beacon Hills, where I live with my dad, who’s human, my mates, and my pack of werewolves.”

“You smell of her bloodline,” Parrish’s dad, the dragon – Stiles still has trouble wrapping his head around that – rumbles.

“She is my great, great, aunt, on my mother’s side, but I’ve never been to the Unseelie, or the Seelie, Court, and I have never sworn loyalty to either of them.  I’m my own fairy,” Stiles states wishing he could gage how pissed off the dragon was, but he’s never met a dragon before can can’t tell if this one’s angry at him – for something he had nothing to do with – or if that’s just how they look.

“So you are of her family,” the dragon roars, “Then maybe, at your death, she’ll feel some of the loss I have endured…”

 

“DAD, NO!” Parrish shouts as the dragon raises one of its front legs, swinging it down to strike at them both.

Stiles throws Parrish to the ground, pushing him aside and out of the way of the scaly, clawed, foot that is bearing down on them; he can’t let Parrish be killed by his own father because of him.  He’s already caused the death of someone today.

 

He sees the dragon’s foot pass over Parrish, missing him by inches as he falls to the ground, and then his world blacks out; again.

 

  
  


 

Matt wakes surrounded by the warm bodies of the pack pressed against him.  He’s in the pack bed, with Aiden pressed against his back and Ethan against his chest.  His cock tries to harden in the confines of his boy-trainer as his tail wags madly against hardness of Aiden’s metal cock cage.

 

He’d been worried about how the pack would treat him after they found out what a non-entity he was that his own mother hadn’t realised he wasn’t home.  Neither of his parents noticed when he had gone to Carmel with the pack for those two weeks’ vacation the pack took back during the summer.  His mom has noticed him even less since his dad left.  If his own mom cared so little for him that she didn’t notice him why should they care about him?

But they did care.

 

Despite their master being missing, and their alpha being almost killed, they still told him how much they loved him and were glad he was with them; how they always noticed when he wasn’t with them.  And Scott made sure to know that he should talk to his mom about how to become emancipated from his parents because they didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as he was.  A part of him thinks it’s just because he’s their Pet, but he’s not listening to that small part of him; he’s listening to the part that’s reminding him how little he’d taken his dog form recently, how the pack only let him become a dog for short amounts of time, the part that’s making him smile and wag his tail, the part that says his pack loves him.

 

He stills as he feels the kiss to the back of his neck.

“Morning,” Aiden says next to his ear.  Matt turns his head to face him.

“Morning,” he replies, and Aiden kisses him on the lips before smiling at him and he knows he’s smiling back as his tail wags faster.

 

  
  


 

Jordan lays Stiles down in the centre of the California king size bed before turning back to face his father; his now human looking father.

 

“So, where did you get the power to create all this in the deep between?” he asks waving an arm around to indicate the well decorated interior of a log cabin.

“He saved you,” his dad replies ignoring the question, still clearly stunned by Stiles’ actions.

“Yeah, and thankfully you didn’t kill him for it even though you were prepared to go through me to get to him; thanks for that dad,” he pointedly says, “And all of this?”  Jordan indicates the structure they are standing in again.

“I don’t know,” his father says sheepishly, “At some point I remember thinking that I always told your mother I’d build her a log cabin for the two of us as a vacation home when you were grown, and how you must be grown by now, though time isn’t really a thing here so… anyway then there is a log cabin, with the huge bed your mother always wanted.”

“How many Sidhe have you…”

“I don’t know…”

“Dad?”

“You know what I was like after they killed her,” Jordan’s dad sobs as he looks at his son, “What I became.  She was my anchor, my reason, my control.  Without her I… I was unleashed, and you know what we are.”

“I don’t know what I am yet,” Jordan replies, though he knows what his father means.  He’d recognised the same simmering rage in the Dunbar boy; and in himself after he burned, if Ray had not already been dead, and Stiles in need of saving, he’s not sure he could have held that feral anger in.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re a dragon, a drake, an ifrit, a djinn, or a phoenix, you are like me; born of fire and ash, and we protect the innocent, our lair, and when we can’t we are a furious retribution and swift justice.  We need to be controlled; your mother was the dominant hand on my leash, you’ll need someone as equally strong to collar you.”

 

Stiles stirs, waking slowly he feels the soft blanket beneath him and wants to curl into and go back to sleep.  He suddenly remembers that he was fighting a dragon and bolts upright, his head spinning.

“Oh, that hurts,” he says placing a hand on his head.

“How are you feeling?” he hears Parrish ask, and he looks up to see two naked Parrishes looking at him.  There are differences, hair length, one is more muscular and the other looks slightly younger and leaner, but both are toned and… he has to stop that line of thought.

“I think I’ve got concussion, I’m seeing two almost identical naked Deputy McCuties,” he replies; one of them, the leaner one with short hair, blushes with his eyebrows searching for his hairline, while the other smirks and pours something foul smelling into a cup.

“Here, drink this,” the smirking Parrish says, “It’ll help with your head.”

“That you all but cracked open…” the lean Parrish says, his Parrish – and Stiles won’t dwell on that thought.

“Be thankful I was able to pull myself back from finishing him off,” dragon Parrish snaps as Stiles downs the contents of the cup.

 

“Goddess that’s vile,” he coughs as his stomach tries to force the liquid back up his throat.

“Ha,” dragon Parrish barks in laughter, “What healing potion isn’t?”

“You okay Stiles?” real Parrish asks as he sits at the edge of the bed and rubs his back.

“I think so,” he replies, before asking, “So, are you a dragon too?”

“I don’t know, most likely,” real Parrish answers, “Whatever I am only happened a short time before we ended up here…”

“When Ray attacked you?” Stiles asks.

“Yeah, I’d always thought I was human, I thought I was dead when I was trapped on fire in the car,” Jordan replies; looking at the foot of the bed, rather than Stiles himself

“Wait, what?!” Stiles asks startled, there isn’t a mark on Parrish, “How…”

“I remember the fear, and the pain, that I felt.  Red and darkness, and then I stumbled from the ruins of the car, everything I had been wearing burned up in the fire, the shell of the car was still hot…”

Stiles doesn’t know what to say; he doesn’t know what to say. 

“Until I died in that fire I had never shown any signs of not being human; even though my father is a fire dragon and my mother was half-human and half-fae…”

“Half-fae like me?” Stiles interrupts him.  Jordan turns his head to look at him.

“No, your mother is pure Sidhe and your dad human.  My mom was half-human, but her Fae heritage was mixed; there was Sidhe, brownie, and succubus blood.  And you’re not half-sidhe, at least not anymore.”

“No, not anymore,” Stiles quietly states before explaining, “One of the Morrigan’s Deaths brought a soul eater to Beacon Hills and tried to use it to kill me; I used it on him instead.  He had used a soul eater on other Fae before, so I became a full blood Sidhe,” Stiles has been looking at his hands as he talks.

 

“What happened to the soul eater?” dragon Parrish asks.  Stiles had almost forgotten he was there; he’d been silent for so long, just listening to Stiles and real Parrish talking.

“We destroyed it.”

“We?” dragon Parrish questions.

“Yes, me and my Pack.  That I need to get back to,” Stiles states with worry, remembering that it was Peter that sent him here, and the last thing he saw was Peter on top of Derek, he really wants to get back to them and make sure they are safe, and he needs to make sure that Ethan and Aiden are coping with Ray’s death; they had to have felt his loss along the pack bond – and their mate bond, even if it wasn’t truly real it felt real to them – when he died.

“Just how is it that you claim a pack of werewolves as yours?”

“They are my lovers, two of them are my mates, and I am their Pack Master.  That is how they are mine,” Stiles forcefully answers, “Assuming that Peter, the latest Death that the Morrigan sent, hasn’t completed whatever twisted plan he has to become an alpha of the pack again after we killed him last time because he was a bat shit crazy murdering psycho.”

 

Stiles doesn’t like the scrutinizing gaze he feels bearing down on him from dragon Parrish.  It reminds him too closely of the judgemental dissecting glare from Harris.

“You care deeply for this pack of werewolves.”  Stiles thinks it’s more of an observation than a question.

“Weren’t you listening, of course I care for them,” Stiles all but shouts in reply, “I’m their Pack Master, they are my lovers and my mates.  I love them and they love me.”

“So you have something to fight for and return to; something that you passionately want to defend.”  Again it doesn’t seem like a question.

“I’ve fought to defend them,” he coldly states as he remembers setting Peter on fire, Gerard being dragged into the roots of the tree, and Deucalion’s life being ripped from him by the sour eater, “And I’d do it again to protect each and every one of the people I care about.”

“Good,” dragon Parrish smiles at him.  A smile that is anything but friendly, “As you may need to fight your way back to them.”  Stiles is instantly expecting Parrish’s dad to return to the dragon form and attack.  “You’re not going to need to fight me,” he laughs at Stiles.

“Good,” Stiles replies, “I wouldn’t want to have to kill Parrish’s dad in front of him.”

Dragon Parrish doubles over in laughter at that before he gets himself under control enough to explain.

 

“You said there is a Death trying to take over your pack.”

“Yeah, Peter; he used to be an alpha before we put him down.”

“Well, the quickest way back to your realm would be through the mirror in the Unseelie Court, it is positioned closest to…”

“No,” real Parrish interrupts, “We are not going into the Morrigan’s domain.  That has to be where the Death was trying to send him.”

 

  
  


 

She is the Queen of the Unseelie.

 

She is the only one that can if one of her Sidhe is to be executed.

 

She will ensure that the upstart Death learns what it means to defy her.

 

She has contacted her changelings that reside in the mortal realm.  Her Wizened, her Beast, her Darkling, her Fairest, and her Ogre.  They will seek out her Charming Death and ensure that he finds and sends the Sidhe Lord to her.  It is clear that Tighearnach cares deeply for the wolves; the wolves that her Death so badly wants.

 

So her instructions to her pets has been very precise. Destroy them all, each and every one.  That will encourage the little Lord to seek out her Death, and then her pets will ensure that he is sent to her properly.

 

  
  


 

“Parrish is right,” Stiles states, “Peter was trying to send me to her court.  She has to be expecting me.”

“Trying to traverse the deep between to find the Hedge, and then to find your way through the Hedge to your own realm will take weeks, years, decades, or even centuries of time in the mortal realm.  What will have become of your pack then?”

Stiles knows he can’t be gone from his pack for weeks or years, never mind decades.  He has to get back now.

“If I’d have trouble finding the Hedge, how will I find the Unseelie Court any easier?” he asks.

“Because you are Sidhe of royal blood, because the Unseelie Sithen is weakening and wants a new stronger Sidhe to sit upon the black throne, and because of that it will lead you there.”

It seems he may end up facing off against aunty dearest after all.  If he does, he hopes Ray was right in thinking that he can defeat her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-13
> 
>   
>  Peter is sitting opposite the two changelings that the queen sent, they turned up at the apartment he’s renting, and honestly, he thought she was sending more than two people to help him take back the pack.  
>   
> The large man sits quietly beside the woman, not that he has a choice as he has no mouth. She is sitting relaxed on the couch, her legs outstretched in front of her, and the heel of her boots resting on the top of the coffee table that is between them.  
>   
> “The table is Italian,” he gripes at her as he raises is gaze from the boots to her face, noticing the scars along her throat that she hides behind her long dark hair.  
> “So are the boots,” she retorts, “Now, are we going to talk about why we are here or more about interior design and fashion?”  
> He resists the urge to growl in her face, flashing his eyes and fangs. He isn’t sure what type of changeling she is, so he doesn’t know what to expect in retaliation if he did.  
> “I thought that she would send more of you to help me take back my pack,” he says instead. The woman smirks.  
>   
>   
> 
> 
>   
> +-----+-----+-----+-----+
> 
>   
> John Stilinski groans as he opens his eyes and shields them with his hand against the light streaming through the gap in the drapes pulled across the window of the cabin connected to the Sithen. He rolls over onto his stomach, pulling some of the bed covers with him, and buries his head in the pillow with another groan as his head throbs with pain.  
> “Think how bad you’d be feeling if we hadn’t stopped you,” John turns his head toward the gravelly voice and peers through half open eyes at Chris lying in the bed beside him. He closes his eyes and groans again, this time at the memory of the previous evening. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are purely my own.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

Derek blinks awake.  For a moment he’s disoriented; the feel of the soft bed beneath him, the scent of his pack surrounding him is familiar and different.  The sour undercurrent of sadness and loss.  Then he remembers; he’d been fighting Peter, trying to save Stiles and he’d seen their Master vanish.  Peter had stabbed him with a blade coated in wolfsbane; he’d threatened to take Scott…  He forced himself up on the bed, tried to stand and suddenly felt his head swim and pitched forward only to feel hands grab hold of him.

 

“It’s okay,” Scott’s familiar voice said, “I’ve got you.”  Derek buried his nose against Scott’s neck and breathed; relaxing only when there was no scent of Peter on him.  Scott helps him back onto the bed, telling him, “You still need to rest.”

“Where’s Isaac?” he asks, keeping the panic from his voice.

“He’s helping feed the babies,” Scott answers, “I just finished feeding and changing Lucas and Michael, and they are in the nursery.  Ethan is having a bath with Aiden and Matt, Danny and Jackson are helping Isaac, and I came to check on you.”

“How long have I…”

“Just overnight,” Derek hears the tremble in Scott’s voice, the worry that it could have been worse, as he soothes his fingers through Derek’s hair as he replies; the worry and fear over what might have been.  Scott changes the subject abruptly, “Ethan had his babies last night, Jackson and I have eight more mouths to feed; four human girls, three werewolf boys, and one Fae boy.  We moved everyone in here last night, I think it would be good for the pack to stay in here for now; we set the cots up along the walls.”

 

Derek looks around and realises they are in the large pack room with the large central bed.

“Good idea,” he agrees, “How’s Ethan and his cubs doing?”

“Ethan’s fine,” the crack in Scott’s voice betraying that it isn’t the whole truth.

“Scott,” he demands the full story.

“Okay, physically he’s fine, all healed up, but the sheriff reported that Peter killed Ray.  He cut off his head.  That must have been when he got Stiles.”

“And he was sending Stiles to the Morrigan,” Derek adds.

“Yeah, and Ray didn’t kill Parrish like Ray thought he had.  He blew the car up, and Parrish burned, but he’s back alive and some kind of supernatural.  But, anyway, so with Ray’s death, you being nearly killed, and Stiles being missing the whole pack is feeling demoralised.  Especially Ethan and Aiden, with Ray being their mate; though Aiden is more… angry than sad.”

“It’s going to be hard for both of them, but they have the advantage of being part of this pack, they still have each other as mates.”  Derek sees the confused look on Scott’s face, “You remember when I gave Isaac the bite?”

“Yeah, he turned out to be our mate too,” Scott smiles at memory.

“Yes,” Derek smiles back at Scott, “And I explained then that it was very rare, but sometimes an alpha had two mates, who were also each other’s mates; that it was less rare for the alphas of a pack that had a shaman or master.  But in our pack it is working differently.  I’m not the only one with two mates, everyone in the pack has two mates.  We are all in a triad relationship, as our primary relationship, and in a semi-open relationship with the rest of our pack.  That will help them, and us, handle Ray’s loss; when a werewolf loses their mate, we tend to spiral out of control or into depression.  If Ray had been their only mate, we may have lost them too.”

Scott snuggles up closer to his mate, clinging tightly to him with his arms wrapped around Derek’s chest and neck.

“Me and Isaac would be lost without you,” he whispers against Derek’s neck.

“And I’d be lost without my beautiful omega mates,” Derek replies.  Before either of them can say anything more the door swings open.

 

“Daddy!” Isaac screams and rushes to the bed, bouncing up to cuddle with his mates, his nose firmly entrenched in the crook of Derek’s neck on the opposite side to Scott.

Jackson and Danny soon join them on the bed, each resting a cheek against Derek’s abs.

 

  
  


 

Peter is sitting opposite the two changelings that the queen sent, they turned up at the apartment he’s renting, and honestly, he thought she was sending more than two people to help him take back the pack.

 

The large man sits quietly beside the woman, not that he has a choice as he has no mouth.  She is sitting relaxed on the couch, her legs outstretched in front of her, and the heel of her boots resting on the top of the coffee table that is between them.

 

“The table is Italian,” he gripes at her as he raises is gaze from the boots to her face, noticing the scars along her throat that she hides behind her long dark hair.

“So are the boots,” she retorts, “Now, are we going to talk about why we are here or more about interior design and fashion?”

He resists the urge to growl in her face, flashing his eyes and fangs.  He isn’t sure what type of changeling she is, so he doesn’t know what to expect in retaliation if he did.

“I thought that she would send more of you to help me take back my pack,” he says instead.  The woman smirks.

 

“Our Mistress did send more of us,” she smiles at him, “Garrett, Violet, and Malia – her Darkling, Fairest, and Beast – are at the school the little lord’s werewolves attend.  We are here to inform you in the change of plan…”

“What change of plan?” he asks holding back the sudden panic he feels.

“Since you were incapable of completing your part of the bargain with our Mistress, she no-longer feels the need to help you take over the pack as alpha,” he moves to stand, but the woman is quickly on her feet, on top of the table, and uses the heel of one of her boots to push him back into the chair and hold him there, “The pack are now to be used to draw the little lord out from wherever he is hiding.  We will pick them off, one by one, until he shows up to deal with you, in which case we will capture him and you will correctly send him to the Unseelie Court and our Mistress.  Assuming there are any of the pack left then you can have them.”

 

Peter roars and allows the shift to partially take him, pushing up against her foot, but with seemingly little effort she slams him back down and he hears the crack as ribs snap within his chest.

“What are…” he coughs.

“ _What am I?_   I’m her Wizened, and my lieutenant over there is her Ogre; but you can call me Braeden, or Ma’am.  I’m in charge now.”

 

  
  


 

John Stilinski groans as he opens his eyes and shields them with his hand against the light streaming through the gap in the drapes pulled across the window of the cabin connected to the Sithen.  He rolls over onto his stomach, pulling some of the bed covers with him, and buries his head in the pillow with another groan as his head throbs with pain.

“Think how bad you’d be feeling if we hadn’t stopped you,” John turns his head toward the gravelly voice and peers through half open eyes at Chris lying in the bed beside him.  He closes his eyes and groans again, this time at the memory of the previous evening.

 

His feelings of despair at Stiles’s disappearance had, after a few – many – shots of whiskey turned to violent anger at the thought of Peter Hale having sent him to the Unseelie Court.  His anger directed toward Peter for taking Stiles, at the Queen of the Unseelie for having ripped his family apart; first forcing his wife to leave him and their son, and now taking his son too.

He remembers on hearing that the FBI didn’t think returning a Fae from the Unseelie Court was necessary he threw his glass at Chris’s head – missing him, thankfully, and hitting the wall behind him – when he took the bottle away.

 

“Sorry,” he says, before asking, “Melissa already left?”

“Yeah, she has an early shift,” Chris answers as he lazily scratches at his left nipple.  John realises this is the first time that the two of them have been alone together, in bed, since this thing between the three of them started.  It’s new to him, being involved with a man like this.  When Melissa is with them he feels on more familiar ground, with just the two of them he’s less sure of himself; less sure how to act towards Chris.  He frowns at the feeling of insecurity.

“Don’t worry; we’ll find Peter, and we’ll get Stiles back.  With or without Rafe McCall’s help,” Chris says, misinterpreting his scowl.  Chris leans over and kisses his forehead.  John can’t help but have s faltering smile at his reassurance.

“Even if we have to go to the Unseelie Court ourselves and get Stiles, and Parrish, back?” he asks.

“Even if,” Chris replies, “Now, how about you have a shower, while I fix some greasy fried bacon and eggs for breakfast; as long as you don’t tell Stiles or Melissa.”

“Sounds good to me,” John replies, and watches Chris’s naked butt slide out of bed and head towards the cabin’s kitchen before dragging himself out of bed and heading to the bathroom for some Tylenol and a shower.

 

  
  


 

The entire pack was in the pack room now; Derek propped up and sitting with his back against a mountain of cushions and pillows, and everyone around him.  There was a peaceful hum of contentment and home thrumming through their pack bond, but it wasn’t complete.  All of them aware of those that were missing, and the feeling the melancholy it washed over them.

 

“Ugh!” Scott groaned, “We gotta move and get to school.”

“No!” Isaac shouts, his head hidden where it’s pushed against Derek’s side, “I don’t wanna go, I wanna stay wiv Daddy!”

“Isaac…” Scott starts to say and stops at Derek’s shake of his head.

“No, me not,” and it dawns on Scott as he realises, from the moment Isaac had woken, and when he came running into the room earlier, he’s been Issy; he’s needed to be Issy.  He’d been ashen white and clung to him when they brought Derek back from the fight with Peter, he’d been so silent while they listened to the sheriff recount what he saw of Ray’s body and Stiles’s disappearance.  Retreating to his little side.

“Sorry, Issy,” Scott says, running a hand through the curls of Isaac’s hair, “Papi was being stupid and didn’t notice.  But Daddy needs to rest and get better, he’s not gonna be up to looking after Issy…”

“No, no, I wanna stay with Daddy!” Issy wails, “Please, Daddy, I… I need to stay…” he sobs, wrapping his arms around Derek and clinging more tightly too him.

 

“It’s okay,” Aiden says, “Matt and I are on suspension, so we’ll be here to help Ethan look after the babies and our Alpha, so one little won’t be much more to handle.”

“And having Issy snuggle up beside me can only help me heal,” Derek adds, running a hand up and down Issy’s back.

“Okay, you sure you?” Scott asks, at the nods from everyone he states, “Danny, Jackson, looks like it just us heading to school.”  Really though, he wants to stay and take care of Derek, Issy and the babies too.

 

Derek could hear in Scott’s voice that he didn’t want to go to school either.  None of the pack did; not with everything that has happened.  They needed to be together.  It’s why Isaac needs to be Issy; needs to be with his Daddy.  And Derek needs them to stay; right now he needs his pack where he knows they are safe.

“Scott, can you ask your mom, or the sheriff, to call the school and say you’re all staying home?” Derek asks, “I’m sure because Stiles being missing, and with Ray… that they can say you need some time…”

“Sure,” Scott answers before Derek finishes speaking, and rushes out to call them.

 

  
  


 

Stiles woke to the feeling of being pinned down.  A hot heavy weight in his right hand.  “Liam…” he hears Parrish whisper over his collarbone, his breath hot against his skin.

 

He looks down, and sees Parrish half lying over him, one arm across Stiles chest, and his own arm and hand trapped under Parrish’s body; the heavy weight in his hand he realises is Parrish’s hard cock where he’s rutting against him while having a dream about ‘Liam’.  Stiles isn’t about to be used to masturbate against.

 

“Stop that!” he shouts as he brings his other arm over in a high arc, smacking his palm against Parrish’s cute, hard, undulating ass with as much force as he can.

“Ahh!” Parrish cries out as he startles awake and shoots his load over Stiles’s arm and hand, quickly followed by, “Oh Goddess, I’m so sorry, I…”

 

Dragon Parrish is laughing his head off by the door to the cabin as his son turns every shade of red possible as he stands by the side of the bed in mortification.

“Liam?” Stiles asks as he uses the bed cover to wipe Parrish’s come off his arm.

 

  
  


 

“No, don’t stop,” Liam calls out as he wakes to the feeling of his seed splashing hot against his skin, “Damn it!”

He’s holding Mason responsible for the sudden change in his dreams.

 

If Mason hadn’t mentioned Stiles spanking Aiden then he’s sure that he wouldn’t have just had Stiles enter his dream and spank Deputy Parrish ordering him to stop rubbing himself off against Liam’s ass.

 

But damn, the command in Stiles’s voice and the sound of the smack of his hand against the deputy’s ass got to him; if the amount he just shot all over himself is anything to go by.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-14
> 
> “So Deputy McSleazy, do you often dream about fifteen year old boys?” Stiles demands as he gets off the bed.  
> “I don’t… I mean I…” Parrish stammers under the hard glare of Stiles’s scrutiny, “It’s only ever been Liam, since I met him just before I moved to Beacon Hills. I don’t know why and I don’t plan to do anything about it. He’s underage, and ten years younger than I am, so nothing will ever happen.”  
> “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Parrish’s dad drawls from where he is putting food out on the table.  
>   
> “Why?” Stiles asks, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, “Are you a family of letches that prey on the young to…”  
> “NO!” Parrish’s dad’s dragon roar cuts across Stiles’s question, clearly offended at what he was implying, “We are not debauched Sidhe that prey on the weak minds of humans.”  
>   
> 
> 
> +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
> 
> “What’s wrong with him?” Scott asks. Just as well Ethan thinks as he can’t, just can’t think or talk or even move, right now.  
> “His temperature is low, and his breathing is very shallow,” Deaton replies, “However, the Sithen is compensating for both. Whichever crib he is in the air is richer in oxygen, you can notice the difference when you breathe the air. Also, when he is alone the temperature around the crib increases, you can feel the warmth; when there are werewolves in the crib around him it lessens as their naturally higher body temperature raises his.”  
> “But why?” Ethan asks, the painful worry breaking in his voice.
> 
> “I don’t know,” Deaton calmly states, “I’ve taken some blood to test, as soon I have the results I’ll let you know what I’ve found. For now, keep feeding him as much as he’ll take,” he turns specifically to Scott, “I’ll leave this here; if he isn’t taking at least half the amount his brothers and sisters are then ask your mother to connect him to it, she’s a nurse and will know what to do; it will keep him hydrated and give him the nourishment he needs.”  
> There’s a whine emanating from the whole pack as the concern they collectively feel runs through their bond at Deaton’s words.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are purely my own.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

 

Scott was happy to relay to the rest of the pack that they were all on suspension, along with Aiden and Matt, for leaving school during class.  So, none of them would be attending until after the weekend.  All of them were glad of that excuse to stay home; and all of them were hoping that Stiles would be back with them before the next try-out for the lacrosse team, so that none of them would miss out.

 

They are all still in the pack room, everyone content to just be around their alpha and pack mates; the babies, all having just been fed and changed, are in their cribs.  Though one of Ethan’s babies hasn’t taken any milk – from either Scott, Jackson, or a bottle – this morning and he has been far quieter than his siblings.

 

“Should we get Deaton to come and check him over?” Ethan asks; the worry, which is evident in his scent, seeping into his voice.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” Scott says, standing next to Ethan and hugging him with one arm around his shoulders and pulling him close to his side, “But we’ll get Deaton to come over anyway.”

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Ethan says as he lays his head against Scott’s shoulder, “I don’t want anything to wrong.  They’re so small, and fragile, and…”

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” Scott intercedes, nuzzling against Ethan’s hair, “I was so scared when Lucas and Michael was born.  I hadn’t a clue what I was doing, I worried about everything they did or didn’t do, and if I was doing anything wrong.   Jackson and Isaac too, we all went through the same worries and concerns.  And all of us are here to help; you’re gonna be a great oma-daddy to your babies.  Trust me.”

“Thanks,” Ethan relaxes against Scott.

“Let’s go call Deaton,” Scott smiles into Ethan’s hair.

 

  
  


 

“This is getting out of control,” Rafe sighed, running his hand over his hair; his face a mixture of both concern and acceptance.  “Too many people in this town know about the supernatural; several of your deputies in there have made comments that suggest they know,” he says looking over John Stilinski’s report, “Now Deputy Parrish has not only been attacked by the Sidhe, but has been transported to the Unseelie Court along with your son.  We need to find this Peter Hale and fast.  And by ‘we’, I mean my team.”

“If you think I am going to sit idly by while my son is being tortured and who knows what by that scheming harridan that calls herself the Queen of the Air and Darkness, then you are way off the mark, Agent,” John rages at him.

“Sheriff, you know damn well I can’t allow you to lead an investigation into the kidnapping of your own son,” Rafe replies, “You need to sit this out and let me do my job.”

“If you think Scott didn’t tell me that your job doesn’t include getting my son back I suggest you think again,” the sheriff growls at him, “I will not leave my son in the hands of that psychotic bitch.  She has cost me, and my son, too much already.  I am going to bring him home.”

 

Rafe can see that he’s not going to change the sheriff’s mind on this, yet; but Rafe knows the best place for the Fae is in Arcadia, and in their Court with their own people.  It’s also safest for humanity and the other supernaturals that are of this world.

“The Roswell Accords of nineteen forty-eight allowed Fae of both Courts to travel freely on this side of the hedge; but only as long as they abided by the rules that existed for the other supernaturals, and did not exert undue influence on humanity,” Rafe states, “However, they didn’t.  The Seelie Fae were no better than the Unseelie, and Fae from both courts were found to be abusing their powers and enslaving humans and supernaturals alike; warping their sense of right and wrong and performing all manner of perversions on them, with their ‘consent’, but it was a consent the Fae only gained from having control over the minds and actions of the victims.”

“ **What has that got to do with my son?!** ” John snarls at the agent.

“That is why the Salem, MA, Accords of two thousand and two were drawn up and agreed; that both courts would ensure that no Fae was ever in this world again.  They were given twelve months to enforce the Accords with their people.  That’s what it has to do with your son.  I can’t allow him to return, but I need to do everything I can to find Peter Hale and have him prosecuted for the death of Réamann Mac an Tiarna na Madraí, and the transporting of Deputy Parrish across the hedge to Arcadia.  And I need to have him return Deputy Parrish here.”  Rafe has no intention of voicing his conviction that Stiles has also exerted some degree of mind control over the pack, Melissa, Chris Argent, and the sheriff himself.

 

John stares at the man seething in anger; with all the resources of the FBI that McCall has access to, he intends to allow Stiles to be stranded away from his family and from his friends.

“The creature,” Rafe says, startling John from his sorrowful thoughts, “Still won’t talk to me, it might give you more information that could lead us to Peter Hale.  If you’re willing to help.”

“Fine,” John grits out.

“I’ll drive him to your office,” Chris says.  He’d been standing at the back of the sheriff’s office; remaining quiet during their exchange.  Especially on Agent McCall’s – _incorrect_ – interpretation of the Salem Accords; something he believes will be useful later.

 

  
  


 

Deaton placed the half-Fae baby back in the crib and when he turned to face the pack, Ethan knew that something was wrong with his baby.  Aiden and Matt both pressed close against him, holding him against them as Deaton spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Deaton quietly said, “There’s nothing more I can do.  He’s better off here in the Sithen with everyone else, it will give him a better chance of come through than he would have even in a hospital or at my clinic.  As a Fae baby, even half-Fae as he is, a Fae Sithen is the most natural place for him.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Scott asks.  Just as well Ethan thinks as he can’t, just can’t think or talk or even move, right now.

“His temperature is low, and his breathing is very shallow,” Deaton replies, “However, the Sithen is compensating for both. Whichever crib he is in the air is richer in oxygen, you can notice the difference when you breathe the air. Also, when he is alone the temperature around the crib increases, you can feel the warmth; when there are werewolves in the crib around him it lessens as their naturally higher body temperature raises his.”

“But why?” Ethan asks, the painful worry breaking in his voice.

 

“I don’t know,” Deaton calmly states, “I’ve taken some blood to test, as soon I have the results I’ll let you know what I’ve found.  For now, keep feeding him as much as he’ll take,” he turns specifically to Scott, “I’ll leave this here; if he isn’t taking at least half the amount his brothers and sisters are then ask your mother to connect him to it, she’s a nurse and will know what to do; it will keep him hydrated and give him the nourishment he needs.”

There’s a whine emanating from the whole pack as the concern they collectively feel runs through their bond at Deaton’s words.

“At this moment there is no immediate threat to him,” Deaton tries to reassure them, “The Sithen is doing all that can be done.  I should have the results of the tests tomorrow; I’ll be back then and we’ll know more.”

 

Deaton leaves them huddled around the half-Fae new born.  All filled with concern for the well-being of their littlest one, and hoping he would open his brown eyes again.

 

  
  


 

Peter forced a partial shift to move his ribs into the correct position before the healing kicked in.  It was agony.  Braeden smirked as he grimaced, clearly she was enjoying his pain.

 

The rest of the Queen’s changelings arrived after the school day finished.  Trapesing into Peter’s apartment as if they owned the place.  This was his home and they were treating it like a hostel; lounging with their feet on the table or on the sofa.  And they were plotting; plotting the demise of his pack.

 

He couldn’t allow that.  He had a plan, and they were going to destroy it if he couldn’t find a way to stop them.  He needed to find a way to stall the changelings.

“The wolves are all suspended for fighting or leaving the school during classes,” he overhears Malia reporting to Braeden, “They won’t be back until next week.”

So, he has a few days to get his plan back on track.  He can’t wait to see Scott’s belly swollen with his pups, the thought bringing a smile to his lips.

“Yeah, there’s a try-out for the lacrosse team that they are involved in,” Garrett adds, “I can take one of them out then.”

“Accidents will happen,” Violet laughs, the sound grating against his ears.

 

He considers adding hemlock to the changelings’ food, but he’s not sure if it would kill them; and he wants to be sure.  He’s sure he could lie to the Queen, tell her that the pack successfully thwarted their attacks.  He just needs to find a way to take them out; without them, or anyone else, being able to link it back to him.  No-one will be allowed to interfere with his plan to claim Scott and breed him.

 

  
  


 

“Guard Captain!” the creature calls to him as he walks through the cell door with Rafe.  John still isn’t sure what more help the creature can be, and he wishes he had a name or something to call it by instead of only thinking of it as ‘the creature’.

“You can call me sheriff,” he tells it, “It’s what we call a ‘guard captain’ here, is there a name or something I should call you?”

“Draahzin y perthynas agosaf Goblin,” it replies, “The Lady calls me Drazin, and you may also.  I do not have a title.”

“Well, Drazin…” Rafe starts.

“I did not say you may call me that,” Drazin interrupts him, “You should use my full name.”

“I…” Rafe falls silent as he fumes at the rebuttal.

“Drazin,” John cuts in, “The Queen’s Charming Death, Peter Hale, has killed Ray, Reamann – the Queen’s grandson, and Stiles’, the Little Lord’s cousin – and he has sent Stiles somewhere…”

“No, no, I have failed…” Drazin wails.

“We need to find Peter, he is still threatening the pack of werewolves that Stiles is the master of, and we need to have him bring Stiles home,” John says.  Rafe decides not to correct him on that in front of the creature.

 

“I told you already; the Death is here to send him to the Queen, she wants to take the little lord’s power for herself.  If he has succeeded then she will have killed the Stiles for his power.”

“Do you know any way we can find the Charming Death?” John asks.  He’s ignoring the idea that Stiles is dead; he won’t believe that until he sees his son’s body.  Stiles is alive, he’s certain of it.

“No, the Lady told me to warn you, so that the Stiles could be saved.  You have to send me to her so that I can tell her I have failed to help save the Stiles,” Drazin says in answer.

“We will send you back soon,” Rafe coldly states; he ignores the hard stare that Stilinski sends him.

 

  
  


 

“So Deputy McSleazy, do you often dream about fifteen year old boys?” Stiles demands as he gets off the bed.

“I don’t… I mean I…” Parrish stammers under the hard glare of Stiles’s scrutiny, “It’s only ever been Liam, since I met him just before I moved to Beacon Hills.  I don’t know why and I don’t plan to do anything about it.  He’s underage, and ten years younger than I am, so nothing will ever happen.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Parrish’s dad drawls from where he is putting food out on the table.

 

“Why?” Stiles asks, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, “Are you a family of letches that prey on the young to…”

“ **NO!** ” Parrish’s dad’s dragon roar cuts across Stiles’s question, clearly offended at what he was implying, “We are not debauched Sidhe that prey on the weak minds of humans.”

“I’ve **never** … **_Well_** before I knew what I was and what I was doing I accidentally, with blood magic, mind controlled the two werewolves that are now my mates, and one of them was human at the time, but once I knew what had happened and I found the ritual to undo what I had done, I did; and I haven’t **ever** done that again, so I think saying I prey on weak minds is totally out of order, and I may have two mates and six lovers, and we may all be in a power exchange relationship, but I don’t think that gives you the right to call me debauched,” Stiles rambles out in indignant reply.

“Well,” Parrish’s dad smirks, “Good to know that you are the Pack Master in more ways than one, but I wasn’t actually referring to you.”

“Oh.”

“The Accords that forced the Fae to leave your realm and return to Arcadia were the result of the actions of several Unseelie and Seelie Sidhe using their powers to coerce humans, some very important humans, to their will.  They were using their powers on other supernatural beings as well, but the human governments didn’t care about that.”

 

“What happened exactly?” Stiles asks as they sit around the table to eat.

“The history lesson can wait,” Parrish’s dad says, “The point I was making about Iordanes…”

“Jordan,” Parrish interrupts his dad, “I didn’t even use the Latin version when I was in school…”

“Don’t know why, perfectly good name,” Parrish’s dad quietly grumbles, before speaking up, “My point is – Jordan’s – dreams could be an indication that his powers were manifesting before he was reborn in fire and ash.”

“How?” Stiles and Parrish both ask at the same time.

 

“Is this **_young_** Liam having similar dreams?” Parrish’s dad asks.  Jordan wishing his dad didn’t emphasis that Liam is young; he already feels like an immoral creep for having these dreams about the boy.

“I don’t know,” he replies, “Why would he?”

“You know how your mother’s bloodline was mixed,” he nods at his father’s words, “And that her great, great grandmother was a succubus,” again he nods, “Well, after a succubus or incubus see their mate for the first time they start to dream of them, and these dreams are shared with their mate.”

“So, he’s a half-dragon and half-incubus?” Stiles exclaims, “An incugon, a dragubus…”

“We don’t even know if I am a dragon, and without knowing if Liam is having these dreams we don’t know if I’m an incubus,” Parrish cuts into Stiles’s attempts at naming what he might be; hoping that maybe Liam is having the dreams he hasn’t been able to stop, at least then he won’t feel that he’s nothing more than a seedy pervert.

“There must be some way to find out what you are,” Stiles argues across the table at Parrish, “Instead of having to wait on you developing some sort of powers, other than coming back to life when you’re set on fire.”

“No…” Jordan starts to deny.

“There may be one way.”  At Parrish’s dad’s words both Stiles and Jordan turn to him waiting for dragon to continue.

 

  
  


 

“So,” Mason says as he throws his bag down on Liam’s bed, “Have you heard?”

“What?” Liam asks confused, he’s been at home all day because he’s suspended from school.

“McCall and all of them weren’t in school, they are all suspended too because they left that day you were in the fight, and it turns out the guy Deputy Parrish was chasing in the car, Stilinski’s cousin, was killed, had his head cut off, and Stilinski’s jeep was found at the scene, and people are saying that the Deputy and Stilinski have been kidnapped by the person that killed the cousin.”

“Jordan’s alive?” Liam shouts

“Seriously?!  That’s all you got from that?  Yes, your boyfriend is alive…”

“Shut up, he’s not my boyfriend,” Liam half-heartedly snipes, hitting Mason with a pillow.

“But you want him to be,” Mason sing-songs back, hitting him back with the pillow.

 

Liam pulls the pillow into his face, hiding the wide grin that’s spreading over him.  Deputy Jordan Parrish is alive.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-15
> 
>   
>  Liam sat on the wall beside the parking lot at school. His feet on the sidewalk, and his left leg bouncing up and down in restless anxiety. Mason sits beside him; they’ve been here for about an hour, and school doesn’t start for another thirty minutes.  
> Mason slaps his hand on Liam’s bouncing leg, griping tightly at his thigh to still his movement.  
>   
> “I swear if you don’t stop that you’re gonna drill a hole into the sidewalk,” Mason snaps at him.  
> “Sorry, it’s just…”  
> “I know, you’re nervous,” Mason lightly smiles at him, “But, we agreed, you need to talk to Aiden, Scott, or someone from Stilinski’s group. Though why we needed to get here so damn early I’ll never know.”  
> “Because if I don’t try to talk to them now then I won’t see them until lunch or lacrosse, and I can’t talk to them with everyone else around,” Liam replies, his voice rising in near panic.  
> “Okay, okay, but there was literally no-one here when we arrived, and we ain’t seen any sign of them yet.”  
> “What if they’re still suspended?”  
> “I told you, I heard they were back today like you were.”  
> “But…”  
> “No buts,” Mason interrupts, pointing over to his left, “There’s Stilinski’s blue jeep pulling in now.” Liam looks over and nearly trips over his own feet in his rush to get over to where the jeep is being parked. Mason chases after him.  
>   
> 
> 
> +----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+
> 
>   
> “You might just be the team’s first freshman captain,” some new student comments to Liam as Scott, Jackson, Aiden, and Matt look on in disbelief. Liam didn’t let a single shot get past him while he was in goal  
> “Thanks Garrett,” Liam replies.  
> “You know, maybe he’s only good in goal, and totally useless on the rest of the field,” Jackson says to Scott hopefully; neither of them wanting to lose their co-captaincy of the team.  
> “Maybe,” Scott shrugs. He can’t help but feel some admiration for the kid; he is showing some real talent and stamina. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are purely my own.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

“So, let me get this clear,” Stiles says, his face frowning in concentration as he works through what Parrish’s dad has said and watches in fascination as the multi-coloured goop that contains drops of Parrish’s blood swirls around in the glass bowl, “Because Parrish was ‘reborn in fire and ash’ he’ll no-longer be part human as that died…” he looks squarely at dragon Parrish for confirmation.

“Yes.”

“And the rebirth will have activated the dormant Bane genes within him…”

“Yes.”

“And this swirling magical goop will show which type of Bane, as although you’re a fire dragon and he most likely is a fire dragon there is a small chance that he could turn out to be one of the other fire based Banes…”

“Yes.”  Stiles ignores the exasperation in the man’s – the Bane’s – voice; just because they have gone over this several times already, he wants to make sure he understands it.

“And it will also show which Fae genes from his mom’s side, succubus, brownie, or Sidhe, are active in his supernatural make-up…”

“Yes.”

“Cool, from my mom I got both the Sidhe and nightflyer genes, but my nightflyer wings changed after I used the soul eater on Deucalion.  I still have the teeth though and the wings are still bat shaped, they just have black, white and golden feathers.”

“I noticed,” Parrish comments, smirking at him.

“So,” Stiles turns back to Parrish’s dad, “How long does this take?”

“The same amount of time as I said the last time you ask,” the man – the Bane – gruffly retorts, “It takes as long as it takes.”

 

“Fine,” Stiles huffs, turning to walk to the main table where Parrish and his dad are sitting, “Then how about we discuss the plan of how to get into the Unseelie Court, get to the throne room, and use the mirror to open the portal to my Nemeton so that Parrish and I can get home to Beacon Hills”

 

They talk about him and Parrish sneaking in through the disused tunnels leading to the dungeons; how working their way up from there would be easier, and that it would take them close to the main hall.  He’d need to get through the gardens, and the blood roses that guard the passage way from there to the hall, and that the throne room and the mirror is easily accessed from main hall.

 

Though throughout the talks Stiles mind still wanders back to the swirling mass in the glass jar across on the other table, and wondering what kind of supernatural Parrish is; and what kind of powers will he have.

 

  
  


 

Ethan’s fingers gently stroke over his half-Fae baby boy’s head.  The little cub has not improved over the last few days, and while he isn’t any worse Deaton decided that he should still be connected to the drips to ensure that enough nourishment and fluid was being received.  The Sithen was taking care of the temperature and oxygen.  Ethan could feel the additional warmth, and smell the richer air, around his son.

 

Scott’s hand slides up along Ethan’s back and he leans into the touch, resting his head against Scott’s shoulder.

“I want him to get well,” Ethan’s words are quiet and his voice broken as he speaks, “Our Master is missing, and Ray is gone; I can’t lose his son too, I…”

“Hush,” Scott ducks his head to kiss at Ethan’s temple, “We won’t lose him, and we’ll get our Master back…”

“It’s been four days,” Ethan cries, “And there is no sign of…”

“Stiles will be fighting his way back to us, and we’ll track down Peter and make him pay,” Scott says, wrapping his arms around Ethan and holding him tight, “It will be okay, I know it will.”

“HOW!” Ethan almost shouts as turns in Scott’s arms, “How can you know it will be okay?  Nothing is okay.  I had everything I could possibly want; two mates that loved me, a Master that cared, a pack that I felt safe in, and my babies.  Now… now I feel hollow Scott, I feel empty inside and so scared.  Worse than when I was at the mercy of the Queen; then I didn’t know what I was missing, now I do.  Now I feel the loss of my mate.  I know that he wasn’t really my mate, and that it was a trick of the Queen’s, but I loved him, I still love him and his loss hurts.  And I am so scared for my baby,” he says turning to look at his fragile child in the cot with the tubes connected to him, “I’m so filled with fear at not being able to do anything to save my baby boy.”

“Ethan,” Scott soothed him with a light kiss to his neck, “I know, we all do; we all feel the same fear.  He’s our little boy too; we’re pack, and we feel just as helpless.  But all of us, you, me, the pack, Deaton, my mom, and the Sithen, we’re all doing everything we can for him.  And I know he is too.  He’s a fighter, and he’ll fight whatever it is that’s wrong to stay here with us.”  Ethan leans back against Scott with a sob chocking from his throat.

“And I know it’s not the same, I didn’t love Ray like you and Aiden did, but I do feel his loss, and I feel your pain at him being taken from us.  Just as I know Aiden’s anger isn’t because he hates Ray now, but because he loves him still, just as you do.  And all of us are here for you and we’ll all help each other get through this because we’re pack, we’re family, and we love each other.”

 

Ethan wraps his arms around Scott’s neck and pulls him close, his head falling on Scott’s shoulders as the tears he has been holding in for the last four days are shed.  Scott’s own tears falling among Ethan’s as they hold each other and the rest of the pack join them; all of them needing the reassurance and comfort that only the contact of pack could give.

 

  
  


 

Derek is still feeling weak, but he’s at least able to get out of bed without falling over or needing support.

 

Right now though he is lying on the pack bed with Issy curled against his right, and Ethan on his left; both of them are diapered and have a pacifier between their lips that they are sucking for comfort.  Danny is lying between Derek’s legs with his head resting on Derek’s crotch.

 

Scott, Jackson, Aiden and Matt have gone back to school.  The plan is to rota who stays home and who goes to school; they are almost half way through their Junior Year and can’t keep missing classes without it affecting their grades and graduating and being seniors next year.  Derek knows that his pack of teenage betas and omegas have plans; plans that involve college.  Despite everything they are having to deal with, he wants to make sure they achieve their goals.

 

Derek feels Danny stir, his nose edging along the side of Derek’s cock.

“We need to check on the babies, feed, change, and settle them down again,” he says looking down at Danny’s pouting face, “And we need to check if these two need changed.  Then you can give me a blow job.”

“Yes Alpha,” Danny grins up at him, eager to get his alpha’s cock down his throat.

 

  
  


 

Liam sat on the wall beside the parking lot at school.  His feet on the sidewalk, and his left leg bouncing up and down in restless anxiety.  Mason sits beside him; they’ve been here for about an hour, and school doesn’t start for another thirty minutes.

Mason slaps his hand on Liam’s bouncing leg, griping tightly at his thigh to still his movement.

 

“I swear if you don’t stop that you’re gonna drill a hole into the sidewalk,” Mason snaps at him.

“Sorry, it’s just…”

“I know, you’re nervous,” Mason lightly smiles at him, “But, we agreed, you need to talk to Aiden, Scott, or someone from Stilinski’s group.  Though why we needed to get here so damn early I’ll never know.”

“Because if I don’t try to talk to them now then I won’t see them until lunch or lacrosse, and I can’t talk to them with everyone else around,” Liam replies, his voice rising in near panic.

“Okay, okay, but there was literally no-one here when we arrived, and we ain’t seen any sign of them yet.”

“What if they’re still suspended?”

“I told you, I heard they were back today like you were.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Mason interrupts, pointing over to his left, “There’s Stilinski’s blue jeep pulling in now.”  Liam looks over and nearly trips over his own feet in his rush to get over to where the jeep is being parked.  Mason chases after him.

 

Liam skids to a halt in front of the jeep as Scott, Jackson, Aiden and Matt climb out.  None of them looking to be in any kind of mood to talk.  He expects that their mood must be related to Stilinski being missing, and his cousin that was killed, but he needs to talk to them now, before he loses his nerve.

“I…” he starts.

“Not now,” Scott snaps as they walk past him.

“But…”

“Now’s not a good time,” Matt turns and says as he continues to walk away.

“Rude much,” Mason retorts, throwing an arm over Liam’s shoulder, “Don’t worry…”

“ **I JUST WANTED TO TALK** ,” Liam yells after them, throwing Mason’s arm off his shoulder he walks towards them, “ **YOU SHOULDN’T JUST BRUSH ME OFF AND IGNORE ME LIKE THAT; NOT AFTER I HELPED WHEN SEAN AND HIS GANG ATTACKED YOU** ,” he stands toe to toe with Scott, each with their brow furled in infuriation.

“ **NOT NOW** ,” Scott snarls.

“I need to talk to Aiden, I need…” the words stick in Liam’s throat, he can’t explain what he needs; isn’t sure what he needs.

 

Scott can see the confusion and fear running through the freshman.  He was so wrapped up in his and the pack’s worries and problems that he didn’t pick up on worry rolling off of him.

“What about Aiden?” Scott asks.

“I… his tattoo… I think I…”

“Liam, calm down,” Scott lays his hand on Liam’s shoulder, “Look,” he scans around them and sees the large number of students taking an interest in them after Liam’s outburst, “Now isn’t the best time to talk, we’ve got a bit of an audience; how about we talk after school, we’ll hang back after lacrosse finishes.  Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Liam replies, looking around and blushing at the attention they’re receiving from the crowd gathered on the fringes of the parking lot, “Thanks.”

 

  
  


 

“So, what does the DNA test show?” Stiles asks, “Is he a cute little fire breathing dragon, or a… what powers do a phoenix, drake, djinn, or an ifrit have?”

“Fire breathing is not the only ability that we dragons have,” Parrish’s dad replies, “And it is something that only we fire bane dragons have.  The abilities we have depends on the element of the bane we are; Earth, Water, Fire, or Wind.”

“So, not all dragons are fire?”  Stiles almost asks what abilities a Wind Dragon has and if had a breath weapon or… but he restrained himself.

“No.”

“What about the Soul Eaters?  What kind of Bane are they?”

“They are all Void Banes.”

“Wait?!  What?!  What kind of element is a Void Bane?”

“Very powerful,” Parrish’s dad says looking at the bowl with confusion.  The gloop was no-longer swirling or doing anything; except hissing.

 

“So?” Stiles pushes when neither Parrish nor his father have said anything.

“I’m half dragon and half Fae,” Parrish says.

“You can tell that by looking at this gloop?” Stiles doesn’t see anything but a mass of what looks like melted candle wax, mostly red with black and violet through it, that is giving off a noxious smell.

“Sort of.  The gas it gives off invokes a vision in the subject of their true form,” Parrish’s dad replies, “And the colours relate to the species.”

 

Stiles looks between them both, hoping someone will explain more.

“The red is for the fire bane, my dragon half,” Parrish says, “that’s why it is half of the… gloop as you call it.  The black and violet relate to my Fae half.  The black is the succubus, or more accurately incubus, part of me; and the violet is the Sidhe.”

 

  
  


 

“You might just be the team’s first freshman captain,” some new student comments to Liam as Scott, Jackson, Aiden, and Matt look on in disbelief.  Liam didn’t let a single shot get past him while he was in goal

“Thanks Garrett,” Liam replies.

“You know, maybe he’s only good in goal, and totally useless on the rest of the field,” Jackson says to Scott hopefully; neither of them wanting to lose their co-captaincy of the team.

“Maybe,” Scott shrugs.  He can’t help but feel some admiration for the kid; he is showing some real talent and stamina.

 

  
  


 

Scott stalks off, away from the line of players waiting to take their shot at the goal, and throws his stick and gloves to the ground.  He hadn’t gotten one shot in, some were close others were miles off; Liam hadn’t missed one, each of his shots at goal getting through.

“Dude, what is going on with you?” Jackson asks.

“I’m having a really off day,” he bites back.

“Off day?  You were dying out there, I feel actual physical pain watching you.  I mean come on, you’re the mate of an alpha werewolf.”

“Not out there, out there I’m just human.”

“Well human you sucks…”

“Jackson! Stiles told us not to use our wolf powers on the field, it’s cheating.”

“I know, but…”

“Is that how you and Aiden have made some of the shots?!”

“You don’t want that freshman to come in and steal all your glory.”

“He’s not gonna steal all the glory,” Scott replies just as Liam makes another goal and he turns to see all the other players cheer and hug the little guy.  He knows his eyes bleed to silver as his vision changes before he gets control of himself.

 

The coach’s whistle gets Scott’s and Jackson’s attention.

“If you two gossiping fishwives are finished how about joining the rest of us?  In fact let’s split you two up, McCall and Dunbar grab the long sticks you’re covering goal for two on one.”

 

Liam hopes that he’s making a good impression on Aiden, Matt, Scott, and Jackson; and that it makes up for earlier.  He and Scott are making a good team keeping the others from getting a shot at the goal.

 

Garrett is making his run at goal, he’s going hard and planning to take the wolf out; he flicks the release on the hidden blade of his lacrosse stick.  He pulls on his Fae imbued strength, the gifts his Queen and Mistress gave him.  The human boy darts in front of him and he can’t stop; he hits the mechanism on his stick again to retract the blade and barrels into the freshman and sends him flying over him.  The boy somersaulting in the air and landing badly with a crack.

 

  
  


 

He slips in through a fire exit that isn’t properly closed.  The stairwell is quiet, there is no-one around.  Carefully he makes his way up, following the direction that the charm is pointing.

 

Violet called Braeden from the school to inform her that Garrett has failed to take out the alpha’s mate, the Sith Lord’s best friend, but that he would be separated from the rest of the pack as he was accompanying the human that Garrett had injured to the hospital.

 

Braeden gave him his orders and sent him to complete the task.  The charm isn’t specifically keyed to his target; it will direct him to any werewolf.  But he will know him on sight.

 

He opens a door onto the floor and steps into what he expects is an empty corridor.  There’s a scream to his left.  He turns and sees blonde haired woman.

“What… what happened to your face?  Where’s your mouth?” she asks.

Looking around him there is no-one else in the corridor.  He raises his arm and slices through her throat with one of his tomahawks in answer.

 

  
  


 

“Where is everyone?” Scott asks, the corridor outside the cubicle that Liam is in is suddenly empty; and Liam’s step-dad is off making arrangements for an x-ray.

“So; that was your step-dad?” he says turning back to face Liam.

“Yeah,” Liam licks his lips in nervousness; trying to build the courage to ask Scott the questions he wanted to ask Aiden.  Scott is part of Stilinski’s group, so maybe he’s his slave too, like Aiden is.

“How…”

“While we’re alone can I ask you something?” Liam blurts out cutting off whatever Scott was about to say or ask.

“Sure.”

“Are you a slave like Aiden?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

 

Scott can see Liam suddenly deflate.  He remembers how he used to hide his desire to be dominated; how he was so scared to talk to anyone, not that he knew anyone he could talk to about it.  He knows how alone and afraid that made him, and how much courage Liam had to have to ask.

“But I am submissive to Stiles, and obey him,” he adds.

“What’s the difference?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I…”

“Is someone trying to force you to…”

“No! No, it’s just… I’m just curious that’s all.”

“Because you shouldn’t allow anyone to pressure you into something, and for the kinda stuff that Aiden and I do you should totally trust that the other person isn’t going to do something you don’t want, and that they’ll stop when you say.”

“What kind of stuff do you do?  And how are you obeying him if you can tell him to stop?”  Liam’s face is scrunched in confusion as he asks.

 

"I'm not sure your step-dad will be happy about me talking about my sex life with his fifteen year old step-son,” Scott decides to deflect the first question, “And it’s about talking about everything and agreeing limits…” Scott stops midsentence.  Something feels wrong; he steps to the doorway of the cubicle.

“Scott?” Liam asks; Scott holds a finger up to silence him.

 

Scott looks down the corridor.  Through the window in the door at the end he sees the face of a man, pale and odd; it takes a fraction of a second for him to realise the oddness is they have no mouth, the skin completely sealed over and smooth where the mouth should be.

“We need to get out of here,” he says to Liam; picking him up from the bed.

“Wait, what?” Liam asks, gripping onto Scott’s neck so he doesn’t fall.  He looks back and sees the strange man advancing on them; two axes in hand, dripping with… “Is that blood?”

 

Scott runs out through a door at the other end, the only way is up.  He runs, taking the steps two at a time, and bounds through the door on the next level only to find himself on the roof.

“Damn it!” he curses, but he hears their pursuer on the stairs behind them and can’t turn back.

 

He puts Liam down as the giant of a man crashes through the door.  Liam is standing on one leg beside him only to be knocked flying as the mouthless man swings his arms to strike at Scott with his axes.

 

Scott sees Liam fall over the edge of the roof, barely grabbing hold of the ledge.  He ducks down, wolfing out as he scrambles after Liam.  He tries to grab hold of him only for the giant to grab both his arms to pull him back.

“SCOTT HELP!” Liam shouts as his fingers give way and he loses his grasp of the ledge.

 

Scott does the only thing he can think off.  He’s an omega after all and he knows omega bites won’t turn someone into a werewolf.  He bites into Liam’s arm.

 

There’s a loud shot and his arms are released.  He reaches over and pulls a shocked Liam back onto the roof.  Looking up Scott sees his dad standing there with a shotgun in hand.

 

“Scott, what have you done?” his dad says as he looks at Liam holding his bloody arm.  The wound beginning to heal.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-16
> 
> “NO!” Scott hears Liam wail, “If he hadn’t bitten me I’d be dead, it’s not fair…”  
>   
> Scott’s sitting in a cell at the FBI office, he’s been here overnight. There’s a strange looking lizard dog in the cell across from him. Scott’s heard bits of the back and forth argument. He’s not sure whether Liam is shouting at the FBI or his parents.  
>   
> His dad explained to him that he had removed himself from the case; that there was a conflict of interest as Scott was the one who had committed the offence; an offence Scott didn’t know existed. He laughed at that; he didn’t mean to, and his dad didn’t get it, but Scott couldn’t help it as he thought where the hell was this FBI department that his dad worked for when he was bitten. Maybe then Peter Hale wouldn’t be back now threatening his pack.  
> 
> 
> +----+----+----+----+----+
> 
> “I am going down there and I am going to rip his…” Derek growls out, his eyes are red and his claws and fangs threaten to emerge.  
> “You’re not going anywhere,” Melissa interrupts and stands in front of him, “Not without me, so I can rip that son of bitch a new one. How the hell can he do that to his own son?!”  
> “Sit down both of you,” Chris firmly and calmly states, “Melissa you need to calm down; it’s why John had me bring you back here to update the pack on what happened. Now John is there. If there is any change in Scott’s safety he’ll let us know.”  
> “And then I’ll rip Agent McCall’s throat out, with my teeth,” Derek growls.  
> “Not before I have,” Melissa retorts.  
>   
> 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

Derek and Danny have left Issy and in the pack room where the babies are all in their cots asleep.  Both omegas are diapered and laying across the large bed with colouring books and crayons.  Derek has taken Danny to one of the other rooms to make good on his promise.

 

Danny is naked and lying on his back with his head hanging over the edge of the bed.  Derek is leaning over him and feeding his cock down Danny’s throat in quick thrusts while he slowly jacks Danny’s hard cock in slow lazy strokes.  Danny’s hands are bound behind his back.

 

Derek stops his stroking of his beta’s cock whenever he starts to thrust up trying to increase the tempo.

“No Danny, I have plans for your cock, so you don’t get to come; not yet.”

Danny groaned at the denial, and Derek increased the pace he was fucking his beta’s throat at.  He was fast approaching the point of no return and pulled out of Danny’s mouth, spraying his release over the beta’s face and neck.

 

Derek pulled Danny up the bed, so he was comfortably in the middle; his cock steel hard and pointing up his stomach.  He then ran his fingers through the still warm come and reached behind himself; pushing his fingers past his ring of muscle and using his own come to lubricate and prep himself.  Danny’s eyes widened as he realised what his alpha planned.

 

Derek eased himself down on Danny’s cock, sliding slowly inch by inch, pulling desperate needy moans from both Danny and himself until he bottomed out and rested fully seated on the hard eight inches.

“Don’t move,” Derek instructs his beta, grinning down at him, “I’m still the one in control.”

“Yes, sir, alpha, sir,” Danny smilingly moans back; desperately needing to come and wishing that Derek would move.

Derek starts to slowly lift himself up and down on his beta’s shaft, angling himself to get the right position so that Danny’s cock strokes over his prostate.  When he involuntary gasps he knows he has the angle right and his speed increases thrust by thrust.  His own cock hardens again and he takes it in hand, alternating the strokes up and down the shaft with his thrusts as he fucks himself on Danny’s cock.

 

“Oh, please, Derek, alpha, sir, please I need to come,” Danny begs under him.

“Hold it,” he grinds out, as he feels himself get close to coming again, “Wait until I say.”

Danny moans with the effort not move and thrust up into his alpha’s ass, the muscles gripping him tightly as his cock slides in and out at the pace Derek is setting.

“Ahh,” Derek gasps, “Now,” he commands Danny and shoots his second load over his beta, as Danny releases into his ass.

 

Derek falls forward, his hands on either side of Danny’s head, he claims the beta’s gasping mouth with his own in a kiss.

“We should get cleaned up and check on Issy and Ethan,” he tells the beta, his hands coming up and wiping his release further over Danny’s skin.

“Yes alpha,” the thought of moving making Danny pout at him, before smiling as he says, “But at least tell me we’ll do this more often, we never have the pack orgies we used to.”

“Hopefully when we get our Master back things will settle down and we’ll get have some more fun,” Derek smiles back at him.

 

  
  


 

“Dad?  What are you doing here?” Scott asks with some confusion, “Not that I’m not glad you are, given axe wielding manic who attacked us.”

“Scott, what were you thinking biting…?” Rafe begins.

“He saved my life!” Liam exclaims, defending Scott before he has the chance to speak for himself, from where he’s sitting on the roof against one of the vents, “That freak was was trying to kill us and knocked me off the building; if he hadn’t grab me like he did I’d be splattered over the ground; it hurt like hell, but I’m glad he did,” he turns to Scott, “You must have really strong jaw muscles, dude, and your face looked so furry; I guess that was like some sort of adrenaline fuelled hallucination or something.”

“Scott, you can’t give the bite to someone without their consent, **and an underage schoolkid can’t give consent!** ” Rafe shouts.

“ **What was he supposed to do, let me die?!** ” Liam shouts back, again before Scott can reply, “ **And what’s the big deal?  It was just a bite, and my arm’s hardly got a mark on it!** ”

Scott looks at Liam’s arm and realises it shouldn’t look like that; it shouldn’t be healing so fast.  He’s an omega and his bite shouldn’t have any effect.

 

“How?” Scott voices quietly, “I’m an omega; I can’t turn someone.”

“Yes you can,” he hears his dad say, “You’re not an omega, you’re an alpha-omega and as your pack has a Master your bite has the same effect as any other alpha’s bite.”  Scott had never considered that when Ethan explained about alpha-omegas and ‘the alpha power’ he also meant that the ability to give the bite to someone.

Liam looks between the two of them confused and worried that they have lost their minds.  Whatever they are talking about doesn’t make sense, but then neither does the mad axe man with the latex half-mask covering his mouth.

 

  
  


 

Rafe is in the kind of quandary he hoped to never find himself.

 

The division of the FBI he works for enforce some very specific laws.  They may not be the kind of laws you find in law books at Harvard or Yale, but they are known to every member of his team.   Verbally agreed to by those acting on behalf of the supernatural, like a shadow government and congress within the country.  One of those laws governing werewolves requires that the person in question is a legal and consenting adult before the bite can be given..

 

Liam is not old enough to give consent, but neither is Scott.  Just as Scott wasn’t a year ago when he was bitten by Peter Hale; the same Peter Hale he is currently still trying to track down in connection with the murder of Reamann and kidnapping of Deputy Parrish.

Potentially the bite could still kill Liam, and he can’t keep Liam’s parents in the dark about what has happened.  So instead of keeping the public from knowing of the supernatural he has to inform two of them that it is real, and that their son is either becoming part of it or dying.  His son could face a death sentence either way; and these decisions aren’t exactly made in a court of his peers. 

 

He’s supposed to be impartial; but, Scott’s still his son and he loves him, so how can he be.  He has to hand this over to his superiors.  Melissa is going to kill him.

 

  
  


 

“I am going down there and I am going to rip his…” Derek growls out, his eyes are red and his claws and fangs threaten to emerge.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Melissa interrupts and stands in front of him, “Not without me, so I can rip that son of bitch a new one.  How the hell can he do that to his own son?!”

“Sit down both of you,” Chris firmly and calmly states, “Melissa you need to calm down; it’s why John had me bring you back here to update the pack on what happened.  Now John is there.  If there is any change in Scott’s safety he’ll let us know.”

“And then I’ll rip Agent McCall’s throat out, with my teeth,” Derek growls.

“Not before I have,” Melissa retorts.

 

“The attacker sounds like an Ogre?” Ethan says out of nowhere.  The rest of the pack are sitting around the room, all worrying about Scott and what the FBI will do, and the simmering anger is rippling back and forth through them.

“Could it have been working with Peter?” Matt asks, “Or is it another threat?  Cause I thought I caught a scent at school, but no-one else mentioned anything so I thought I was wrong…”

“What scent?” Jackson asks.

“Like there was someone, or maybe more than one, that was like me; a changeling,” Matt answers him.

“You’d be more likely to catch the scent and recognise a changeling than we would,” Aiden says from where he’s seated next to Matt and gives him a smile as he nudges his knee against him, “From what I remember hearing around the Court, changelings are more likely to recognise each other than a werewolf would be to identify their scent; like some kind of hard-wired recognition, especially if they are of the same kind.”

“Oh,” Matt says, “Then maybe I caught the scent of the Ogre around school, but it seemed like more than one scent I was getting.  It wasn’t like I recognised them, it’s just that when I caught them I thought changeling.”

“But this Ogre was trying to kill Scott,” Melissa says; Derek growls at her words, unable to hold back the anger at the threat to his mate.  Melissa continues, “If the queen made a deal with Peter for him to take the pack when he sent Stiles to the Unseelie Court, why would she go back on her word and now send people to harm any of the pack.”

“She wouldn’t,” Ethan says, “She couldn’t break her word like that.”

“Unless Stiles didn’t arrive.  Peter couldn’t have expected Parrish to jump into the portal too, and that could have changed where it went to,” Chris supplies, “Or, she may not be the one that sent the Ogre.”

 

“We need more information,” Derek gruffly states, “And we need to know what is happening with Scott,” he cock’s his head to the side, “And we need to feed the babies.”

The pack rises to go see to their cubs.

“Ethan, how is the little boy doing?” Melissa asks after the poorly baby.

“There’s no real change,” Ethan answers with a heaviness to his words.

“I’ll come help with the babies, and check on him while I’m here,” Melissa responds with a small comforting smile as she rises from where she is sitting to follow him.

 

  
  


 

“NO!” Scott hears Liam wail, “If he hadn’t bitten me I’d be dead, it’s not fair…” 

 

Scott’s sitting in a cell at the FBI office, he’s been here overnight.  There’s a strange looking lizard dog in the cell across from him.  Scott’s heard bits of the back and forth argument.  He’s not sure whether Liam is shouting at the FBI or his parents.

 

His dad explained to him that he had removed himself from the case; that there was a conflict of interest as Scott was the one who had committed the offence; an offence Scott didn’t know existed.  He laughed at that; he didn’t mean to, and his dad didn’t get it, but Scott couldn’t help it as he thought where the hell was this FBI department that his dad worked for when he was bitten.  Maybe then Peter Hale wouldn’t be back now threatening his pack.

 

An agent by the name of Hanscum had come down and talked to him; she seemed nice, said she was from someplace called Stillwater in Minnesota.  Apparently she had the pleasure of explaining to Liam’s parents that the supernatural was real, and that Liam was now a werewolf – the bite had definitely taken as there was no mark on his arm from the bite and his leg was now healed – and she needed to take Scott’s statement of what happened.  After he had given her his statement she asked him questions; why did he decide to use his teeth and bite Liam to stop him from falling, and why didn’t he think his bite would turn Liam.  Things that he had already said when he told her what had happened.

 

He worries about what will happen if they… if they don’t let him go.  Who will help Jackson provide the milk for the babies, for his Michael and Lucas?  What will the FBI do to Liam?

 

The door at the end of the corridor opens and Stiles’s dad walks in.  He comes to Scott’s cell and opens the door.

“Come on kiddo, let’s get you home,” he says to Scott.

“They’re letting me go home?” Scott asks.

“Yeah, Liam’s mom and step-dad are still in shock, but they don’t want things taken further, especially against someone who saved their son’s life.  And I think Liam would go feral on anyone that tried to harm the werewolf that saved him,” the sheriff says.

Scott can’t stop himself from rushing the man and hugging him.

“Also, Liam has to go home with you, and can only have supervised visits with his folks until he has control of his wolf.  There’s regulations for someone being bitten by a werewolf apparently.”

 

Scott can’t help but laugh at that, even as his tears of joy and relief, fall against the sheriff’s neck as he hugs him tightly.

 

When they’re at the door the sheriff turns to the lizard-dog creature.

“Drazin, I’m still working to get Agent McCall to return you to Arcadia as soon as possible,” the sheriff says.

“The augurs say I will not return, sheriff,” Drazin yips in reply, “And I fear what that may mean.”

 

  
  


 

The pack descended on Scott as soon as he walked through the door.  Every one of them hugging him and expressing how happy they were that he was home.  His mom kissing his cheek, Chris squeezing his shoulder, the pack embracing him, kissing him, and nuzzling his cheek and neck until only Isaac and Derek are left to greet him.  They both pull him into a tight embrace, scenting him, kissing him and holding him as if to never let him go.

 

“I’ve only been gone a day guys,” Scott remarks, “If this is the kind of welcome home I get I might…”

“No, never,” Derek growls out at him.  Isaac seconds the sentiment.

“No, I don’t think I could stand it either,” Scott agrees.

 

Liam is standing just inside the door, watching the scene before him; his hands gripping tightly to the rucksack he’s holding that contains his change of clothes and school work.  The FBI agents had allowed him to be taken home to pack a bag and say goodbye to his parents.  There was an agent there with them, and Scott and the sheriff too.  It was awkward.  He knows that him being a werewolf is something that they need to adjust to, it’s something he has to adjust to too; and he was already dealing with adjusting to his possible attraction to certain a Deputy Sheriff and wanting said deputy to do not necessarily commonly accepted activities with him.

 

His folks were nervous; whether about him, Scott, or the federal agents, he’s not sure.  Maybe it was all three.  But here he’s watching Scott’s mom and the sheriff, and the Allison Argent’s dad treat everybody equally.  There’s no stilted hugging and awkward kiss on the cheek like there was when he left his home to come here and learn how to be a werewolf.  Maybe it’s because they know how to control their wolves, but other than his leg healing Liam knows he hasn’t shown any other sign of being a werewolf yet.  No claws or fangs, and no hairy face or changing eye colour.  

He just wishes someone would hold him like they are holding Scott; it might make him feel less like he’s losing his mind, make him take in that this is real.

 

“Guys, you remember Liam,” Scott’s words pull him from his thoughts, and he looks to see everyone looking at him.  He gives them a nervous wave and smile as Scott continues, “I bit him when we were running from the guy with the axes.  The guy had grabbed a hold of both my arms to pull me back, Liam’s grip on the edge of the roof was slipping and he would have fallen to his death.  I couldn’t let that happen.  I didn’t know then that my bite would affect him like a regular alpha’s bite; I do now, and honestly, I would still do the same thing on that roof.”

Scott goes round the huddle of people telling him who they all are.

“Well come to the pack Liam,” Derek says to him, and then they descend on Liam as they had with Scott; except for the kissing, and Liam isn’t sure if he is glad of that or not.

 

“Why don’t we three go and deal with the kids while you talk with Liam,” the sheriff says, and he, Melissa, and Chris leave them.

 

  
  


 

Liam is lying in the middle of a pile of werewolves; and one changeling.

 

There’s Danny, Jackson, Isaac, Derek, Scott, himself, Ethan, Matt, and then Aiden.  Everyone else seems to be asleep, but his mind is too busy from everything they talked about upstairs after the parents left them.

 

The FBI had covered the hunters and their code with him and his parents, but Derek told him that not all hunters stick to the code; Scott, Isaac, and Jackson told him about Gerard Argent.

 

The FBI had talked about alphas, betas, and omegas and that they had different roles and statuses within a pack’s hierarchy; they didn’t really explain what they were.  Derek, Scott, Danny, and Jackson explained.  It was Scott’s touch – when he grabbed the back of Liam’s neck – that pulled him back from the panic of having a heat and becoming pregnant.  Though it turns out he doesn’t have to worry about that, as his eyes flashed blue in his panic and that means he’s a beta like Danny and Aiden.

 

They also explained that this pack isn’t like most packs.  They have a Master that they all submit to.  Stiles Stilinski, who’s a Fae; a Sidhe Lord.  They explained their relationships with each other, and with Stiles.  Telling him how that even though they are all involved romantically and sexually with each other, they have ‘significant others’; and anything they do together sexually is only with consent.  And Derek was very specific about pointing out that Scott, Isaac, Jackson, and Ethan, could not be ‘ _with_ ’ a beta, or even himself, who was not their mate without that omega’s mate’s permission.  It took Liam a minute to realise when he said ‘ _couldn’t be with_ ’, he meant they couldn’t have sex.

 

The biggest revelation, the one that is keeping Liam awake, is what submitting to their Master means.  And now he knows that he and Aiden don’t have as much in common as he had assumed; now Liam suspects he has far more in common with his alpha that gave him the bite.

 

  
  


 

Peter skulks around the edge of his own living room; watching the changeling Braeden berate Garret for his incompetence in ‘handling’ Scott McCall. 

 

She is less than pleased at the loss of her lieutenant; the Mute. Almost as soon as Violet had called to tell her, about Garret’s failed attempt to poison Scott, Braeden had sent the brute to the hospital with instructions to take out Scott.

 

Peter couldn’t allow that.  He quickly slipped away from the changelings and, making sure that he was alone and wouldn't be overheard, used *67 to conceal the number he was dialing from when calling the local FBI office to report ‘a Fae related murder attempt’ at the hospital.

 

Now, with the mute gone, he just needs to deal with the rest of the Queen’s pets.  No one is allowed to threaten **his** Scott.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-17
> 
>   
>  Liam wakes to find his nose buried in a hairless armpit. The scent from it making him feel safe and secure. He turns his head and rests it on Scott’s – his alpha’s he reminds himself – shoulder. He wonders briefly if the fact his morning wood is pressed against Scott’s side is totally inappropriate, but with everyone in the same bed he doesn’t think it can be.  
>   
> He takes a moment to look around him, there are eight other guys in the bed with him; and the bed could probably hold another three before it became uncomfortable. He thinks it must be a werewolf thing that has every one of them tightly pack together in a pile around Derek and Scott; and that he feels so good about being right next to Scott, and pressed up against him.  
>   
> When there’s a cry from the cribs around the bed the others stir and waken quickly; disentangling themselves and checking on the babies. He has to remind himself that Scott, Jackson, Isaac, and Ethan gave birth to these little humans – and werewolves and Fae – it still seems so unreal, but then Scott turns back to the bed and he sees the baby boy he’s cradling suckling at his nipple, and the baby’s eyes flash blue.  
>   
> 
> 
> +----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+
> 
> It’s in that few seconds as he thinks that she strikes. Her claws are suddenly raking down his arm, slicing into his wrists. He raises his other arm to push her away and her other hand is sweeping across his unprotected belly, the claws slicing deep into him. There’s so much blood pouring from him. He collapses to the floor; she stands over him before turning and slinking back into the empty corridor.  
>   
>   
> 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

 

Liam wakes to find his nose buried in a hairless armpit.  The scent from it making him feel safe and secure.  He turns his head and rests it on Scott’s – his alpha’s he reminds himself – shoulder.  He’s embarrassed by the fact his morning wood is pressed against Scott’s side and wonders briefly if it’s totally inappropriate, but with everyone in the same bed he doesn’t think it can be.

 

He takes a moment to look around him, there are eight other guys in the bed with him; and the bed could probably hold another three before it became uncomfortable.  He thinks it must be a werewolf thing that has every one of them tightly pack together in a pile around Derek and Scott; and that he feels so good about being right next to Scott, and pressed up against him.

 

When there’s a cry from the cribs around the bed the others stir and waken quickly; disentangling themselves and checking on the babies.  He has to remind himself that Scott, Jackson, Isaac, and Ethan gave birth to these little humans... and werewolves and Fae... it still seems so unreal, but then Scott turns back to the bed and he sees the baby boy he’s cradling suckling at his nipple, and the baby’s eyes flash blue.

“He’s a werewolf, a beta,” Liam exclaims, “Like me.”

“Yes,” Scott replies, “We didn’t introduce the kids to you last night; this is Michael.”

“He’s a stubborn one,” Isaac interjects, “He only feeds from his oma-daddy, though sometimes he’ll take a bottle from his daddy, but only if it’s got his oma’s milk in it.”

 

He’s quickly introduced to the others, not that he remembers all the names yet, and Ethan’s eight babies who are still to be given their names; they are only a few days old and look so tiny compared to Scott’s two boys.  And the one in the crib that he had though still asleep he realises isn’t; the air around him warm and rich smelling.  He feels the worry about the little one, the fear the others have that he’s not improving.

“He’s gonna be okay isn’t he?” he suddenly asks with an urgency and fear that isn’t just his own.

“I hope so,” Ethan softly answers; the pain he is feeling for his son evident in the waver of his voice.

“We all do,” Derek adds, his hand rubbing at Ethan’s back in comfort and support.

 

  
  


 

“So, you’re not coming with?” Stiles angrily asks Parrish’s dad; he really wishes he’d asked for a name so he didn’t keep referring to him as Parrish’s dad, even though that’s is who he is.

“No,” is the simple reply.

“Why not?  You could help us get to the Unseelie Court past the Soul Eaters, and through to Unseelie Sithen into the throne room so; think of the Unseelie Fae we’ll need to fight against that you could kill,” Stiles prompts trying to entice him to join them.

“As tempting as that sounds, I made a promise to a Fae that I would never enter the Unseelie Court; and I will not break that oath.”

“To my mom,” Parrish quietly says, “When the Unseelie Sidhe first came to take her back to the Court you threatened to go there and kill Morrigan.  She made you promise never to do something so foolish, to never set foot inside the Unseelie Court.”

“Yes.”

 

“Pity,” Stiles says, “With the only power your son’s shown so far is to have wet dreams about his mate…”

“Hey!” Parrish protests, “I haven’t done that in a while.”

“No, you haven’t,” his father says, “Not since the young Sidhe Lord spanked you; forte ipse apprehendit tuus lorum?”

“Ipse est filius populi mei umbo,” Parrish responds

“You know, my Latin isn’t anywhere near Lydia Martin standards, but it is definitely improving by the day,” Stiles says, his eyebrows arched.

“You understood that?” Parrish asks, blushing furiously.

Stiles didn’t, but he doesn’t answer, he just walks out the door of the cabin into the deep between leaving the dragon and half-dragon guessing.

 

  
  


 

Liam rides with Scott, Isaac, and Matt in the Camaro; Danny and Jackson are in Stiles’s jeep.  Aiden is staying home with Ethan and Derek, to help look after the babies.

 

Liam’s learned there are more kinks in his pack than just those he shares with his alpha, Scott.  Jackson is wearing a pair of baby blue lace panties under his pants, Matt is wearing a dog collar around his neck, and sitting in the seat in front of him Isaac is currently sucking on a pacifier; the t-shirt he’s wearing under his shirt has a Ben-10 design.

Scott pulls into the school parking lot; parking where there are fewer cars parked.

“Come on Isaac, we need to leave your paci in the car,” Scott turns to his mate and says, “You know can’t have it in school.”

“Nah-ah,” Isaac shakes his head.

“Isaac,” Scott says firmly.  Isaac just shakes his head while continuing to suck on his paci.  Scott know how much the pack is struggling with the changes, the stress, and the loss, they have experienced in such a short time; with Stiles missing, Ray gone, and Ethan’s little boy fighting to live.  And Isaac is dealing with it by retreating to his little side, but he needs to be Isaac, not Issy, at school.

“How about I carry it in my bag, and at lunchtime – if you need it – we find a somewhere quiet that you can have a few minutes?”

“Okay Papi,” Isaac replies as he hands the paci to Scott.

 

They get out of the car and join Danny and Jackson who are waiting for them.

Liam spots Mason heading in their direction.  He hasn’t spoken to him since he was carried off the field at the lacrosse try-outs; he doesn’t know that Liam’s living with Scott and the pack just now, or that he’s a werewolf.  And he’s not allowed to tell him about the supernatural.

 

“Liam,” Mason calls out to him as he gets closer, “Hey man, I dropped by your house to find out how you were, but your parents said you were staying with friends for a few days,” he says, clearly asking what’s going on.

“Yeah, I’m staying with…”

“Me, and my family,” Scott cuts in, “We have a place where there are a few houses, and Stiles and his dad, Allison and her father, Danny, Jackson, Matt, Aiden and Ethan all stay there.”

“You all live there, together, like a commune or something?” Mason asks.

“Or something,” Danny says before Jackson adds, “After my parents kicked me out Stiles and his dad took me in and let me live with them.”

“It’s like a safe place where we don’t have to conform to the heteronormative, binary gender, couples lifestyle, and we can be ourselves,” Isaac shyly says; ignoring the surprised looks from Danny and Jackson and confused look from Scott.

 

“That’s why your parents seemed off, you told them about your dreams and that you might be gay,” Mason slowly says, his face showing how he was thinking back to his talk with Liam’s parents, “Are they like mad at you?  Do they blame me and think…”

“ **NO!** ” Liam shouts, more quietly adding, “They’re not mad that I might be gay…”  He hasn’t actually told them that yet; they’re – and he is – still getting used to the concept of him being a werewolf.

“Is it the spanking? Mason’s voiced filled with puzzlement and worry that his friend would talk to his parents about possibly liking being spanked.

“ **God No, I never even mentioned that to them** ,” Liam exclaims, “Now please just STOP.”

 

The bell sounds for the start of classes.

“We gotta hustle,” Scott cuts in before Mason starts asking more, “Don’t want to be late for class.”

The pack heads into school and to their lockers; Mason tagging along beside Liam and trying to talk to him about why he’s living with Scott and the pack, what his parents are weirded out by, and why they agreed to him living with Scott and the pack.  Liam does his best to deflect his friend’s questions.

 

  
  


 

As soon Stiles steps through the doorway back into the deep between his true self is once again revealed and his human countenance gone.  He stretches his wings and turns to face Parrish; who is still looking like a naked human.

 

“What?!” Stiles screeches, “That is so unfair.  How come your half-dragon form isn’t showing when my glamour instantly falls and my Fae Mein is clearly visible?”

“I don’t know,” Parrish answers, “Maybe because I haven’t been able to shift to my half-dragon yet, or maybe it’s only Sidhe glamour that is cancelled in the deep between, or any one of a dozen other reasons I can’t think of yet.”

“Yeah, well… still no dreaming about your fifteen year old human boys and jizzing on me, it won’t wipe off these wing feathers as easily as did off my arm,” Stiles pouts.

“It’s boy singular, and only once when I was sleeping with you did I dream about him - and that sounded less sleazy in my head - and I haven’t dreamed about Liam since I slept with – **beside** – you,” Parrish flusters in answer.

 

“Yeah, didn’t you say you were having those dreams regularly, so why would they suddenly stop?” Stiles asks him as they continue to walk seemingly aimlessly through the blackness.

“You didn’t understand the conversation with my father,” Parrish states.

“Some of it,” Stiles says, and when Parrish raises his eyebrows questioningly he continues, “Okay, I got something about ‘he’, ‘strap’, ‘son’, and ‘boss’.  OH!” he exclaims as a thought strikes him, “When you replied you were pointing out that I’m the son of your boss, so…” with less certainty he asks, “Did your dad suggest I should have used a strap instead of spanking you?”  Parrish turns heated pink in embarrassment, causing Stiles to exclaim, “ **Oh my Goddess!** ”

“ **NO!**   That’s not what he said,” Parrish hurriedly responds, “Not exactly.”

“You care to enlighten me?” Stiles asks when Parrish says no more.

“Those of us who are of the element of fire are creatures of drive and passion; it can be wild and furious, and we need to have discipline, control and balance.  Without it we can become… unpredictable, given to rage and outbursts of violence.”

“You’ve always seemed a kinda laidback and balanced person to me; very Zen,” Stiles comments, “Not someone to hulk out.

“Dad had techniques to control himself when mom wasn’t around, she was the firm hand on his leash; the one that controlled his passion.”

“Leash, not strap, it was leash,” Stiles exclaims.

“Yes.  The techniques that dad used he taught me, I’ve always found them useful and they have worked, before I came into my fire bane heritage; now I’ll need someone who is like my mom was for my dad.”

“Your mom was his mate, like Liam is for you, so you need to teach him how…”

“No,” Parrish stops him, “Liam is prone to rage and violent outbursts, he needs someone to rein him in too.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, then, “ **OH!** ”

 

“Do you know where we’re actually going?” Parrish asks looking around the darkness.

“It feels like the right direction; you’re dad said the Unseelie Sithen would pull me to it, and why are you changing the subject.”

“So that you can think about the implications of what my dad suggested.”

 

  
  


 

Matt can smell them.  There’s three of them, and they are close; too close.  He wishes he’d been in a class with someone else from his pack, but his class before lunch wasn’t one that any of the others were in.  But there is one of the changelings.  The one most like him; a beast.  She’s different to him too; she smells… off, she’s a beast, but not a pet like he is.  There’s something wild about her.

 

As soon as the bell rings he his dashing out the door; the pack – at least those of them that are here – are meeting near the cafeteria to have lunch together.  

“What’s the rush cutie,” the changeling laughs at him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him into a janitor’s closet with unnatural strength.  She catches him off guard and traps him in the closet with her before he realises; placing herself between him and the door.

“ **Get out of my way!** ” he growls at her, the urge to shift to his dog form rising as he backs away from her, only to bump into the shelving against the wall.

“Don’t be like that, you can at least let me introduce myself,” she grins as she stalks towards him, “I’m Malia, I’m like you,” she holds her hand out, “though you know that already, but I’m a coyote, not a pet like you are,” she smiles at him.

 

He doesn’t trust her, but she’s the only other changeling like him he’s met and there are so many questions that his Master can’t answer about what being a changeling, being his Master’s pet beast, means.

 

It’s in that few seconds as he thinks that she strikes.  Her claws are suddenly raking down his arm, slicing into his wrists.  He raises his other arm to push her away and her other hand is sweeping across his unprotected belly, the claws slicing deep into him.  There’s so much blood pouring from him.  He collapses to the floor; she stands over him before turning and slinking back into the empty corridor.

 

  
  


 

Liam is trying to answer Mason’s questions without using the words ‘bitten’, ‘werewolf’, ‘beta’, and ‘alpha’; he doesn’t want to lie to his friend, but he can’t tell him the truth either.  He tries sticking to the idea that Mason has latched onto; the fact that Liam has been questioning his sexuality and the fact he’s been looking at BDSM porn on his computer.  That he’d been trying to find a way to talk to Aiden about his relationship with Stiles and now instead of mentioning Aiden he’d apparently answered a lot of Mason’s questions with variations of ‘Scott says…’ or ‘According to Scott…’ has only increased his friend’s curiosity.

 

They’re passing a corridor when something distracts Liam from whatever new question Mason is asking.  There’s a tangy coppery scent in the air; tinged with the sweet cinnamon smell he’d noticed around the pack.  He turns his head and sees the blood under the door of the janitor’s closet.  Rushing to the door he pulls it open to find Matt pale and lifeless.  He doesn’t think, he’s on his knees pulling Matt into his lap, trying to cover the cuts that he’s bleeding from and throws his head back and roars, “ **SCOTT!** ”

 

“ **Dude!** ” Mason exclaims as he stares at Liam’s wolfed out form cradling Matt.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-18
> 
> “Are you seriously trying to insult my intelligence?” Mason boldly asks Lydia.  
> “No,” Allison tries to placate the clearly offended freshman, “Lydia is merely suggesting that you didn’t see what…”  
> “Can it, I know what I saw,” Mason stops her, “My best friend sprouted fur, fangs and claws, and his eyes flashed blue while he howled, actually howled, for McCall. So how about you two tell me what’s going on; and don’t even try to suggest it was all faked for the school drama club, I know that wasn’t contacts and a costume and Liam isn’t a member of the drama club.”  
>   
> "Fine, Liam’s a werewolf," Lydia flatly states.  
> “What?” Mason shouts, as Allison hiss out, “Lydia!”  
>   
> 
> 
> +----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+
> 
>   
> “Man, you really don’t look well, Deputy McCutie” he says.  
> “Stiles, please don’t call me that,” Parrish responds, “And I’m fine, just a little run down.”  
> “Do half-dragon incubus Sidhe get sick?”  
> “No.”  
> “Then what’s making you like you’re coming down with flu or something?”  
> Parrish remains silent and pensive.  
> “McCutie do I need to spank an answer out of you?” Stiles demands. Parrish’s eyes widen in shock and annoyance at the way his body reacts to Stiles’s threat.  
> “I asked you not to call me that!” he states. Stiles just arches an eyebrow and waits. Eventually Parrish continues, “I think, maybe, that the dreams I was having about Liam were feeding the incubus part of me.” 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
>   
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
>   
> 

Scott hears Liam’s roar, and runs from the cafeteria.  Danny, Isaac, Jackson, Lydia, and Allison are all quickly behind him.  He rushes in the direction the howl came from; he and his pack mates arrive to find a shocked Mason, and Liam – returning to his human face – cradling Matt.  Blood is everywhere.

 

Scott looks to Allison and Lydia to deal with Mason.

“He… he… what?!” Mason questions them, too much in shock that he doesn’t notice as they forcefully lead him away.

 

“Liam, what happened?” Scott asks his beta as he tears strips from his shirt to use to stop the bleeding.

“Malia,” comes the faintly whispered reply from Matt’s lips, “She’s like me.”

“Danny, Jackson; find her,” Scott orders them, “But be careful.”  Both Danny and Jackson take a sniff of the air for any scent similar to Matt’s before they nod and take off.

“I found him in the janitor’s closet,” Liam says, the tears hanging in his eyes, “Why would someone do this to Matt?”

 

There’s a scream, and Scott turns to see a several freshmen students have arrived in the corridor.

“What’s going on here?” an adult voice calls, “Oh my god!” and he hears the teacher call the emergency services.

“Goddess give me strength,” Scott hisses under his breath; the last thing they need is human’s trying to examine Matt and finding his tail.  He fishes in his pocket for his phone and quickly dials, “Dad, Matt’s been attacked at school; he’s in bad shape, the school are calling for an ambulance.

 

Scott’s dad and his field agents arrive just ahead of the paramedics.  They redirect the paramedics to take Matt to a ‘private facility’.  The FBI’s newly completed medical facility connected to their offices; specially equipped to deal with any supernatural patient.  Scott demands to ride in the ambulance with Matt, Liam and Isaac both insist on going with Scott.  Rafe has to give in and let them go with him.

 

On the ride to the facility Scott calls Deaton and gives him the address; he has no intention of someone he doesn’t know treating his pack mate.  Isaac calls Derek to tell him about the attack.  Scott asked Liam to let Jackson and Danny know what is happening; but he doesn’t have their numbers, and he doesn’t have either Allison’s or Lydia’s number either.  So he calls Mason, as he knows Allison and Lydia were with him, and asks to talk to one of them so that he can give them the same information to pass on to Danny and Jackson.

 

  
  


 

“Damn it, McCall, I’m a doctor not a zookeeper; you can’t expect me to stand here and let a veterinarian treat the boy?!” the young agent shouts across the examination table at Rafe.

 

Scott partially shifts and roars at the young doctor; a roar full of alpha authority, causing Isaac and Liam to bare their necks to him and has most of the other FBI agents quickly on edge.

 

“I think that Alpha McCall’s concern is that he doesn’t know you,” Deaton calmly explains, “But, as I am Emissary to the McCall-Hale pack and have treated them in the past, he knows that I will do everything possible for…”

“He’s not a werewolf he’s a…”

“Changeling, I am aware of that,” Deaton interrupts him, “Perhaps as a compromise Alpha McCall will allow you to assist me while I treat him?”

“You can’t…”

“Scott, is that acceptable to you?” Rafe asks his son ignoring the protests of the doctor.

“ **Fine,** ” he snarls out through his fangs, “ **Save Matt, now!** ”

“Dr Kennex you’ll assist Dr Deaton as…”

“You can’t…”

“ **Damn it, John, stop telling me what I can’t do,** ” Rafe snaps at the doctor, “The kid’s life is at stake, so stop arguing with me and help save him!”

 

Scott relaxes once Deaton has started treating Matt, he doesn’t leave the room – he’s not exactly squeamish – but Isaac takes Liam out to the office next door and waits with him while Scott stays and watches Deaton and the other doctor work.  Scott’s aware of Liam’s concern for Matt, he can smell the anxiety rolling off him; he’d expect it from any of the rest of the pack, they’ve bonded and know each other well.  He certainly didn’t expect his beta to grow so attached so quickly, but it does calm him a bit, knowing that he’s grown to care for his fellow pack members so quickly.

 

  
  


 

“Are you seriously trying… how stupid do you think I am?” Mason boldly asks Lydia.

“No,” Allison tries to placate the clearly offended freshman, “What Lydia was saying is that… Matt was attacked, and that can be traumatic; with all that blood, you don’t always remember things correctly.”

“Can it, I know what I saw,” Mason stops her, “My best friend sprouted fur, fangs and claws, and his eyes flashed blue while he howled, **actually howled** , for McCall.  So how about you two tell me what’s going on; and don’t even try to suggest it was all faked for the school drama club, I know that wasn’t contacts and a costume and Liam isn’t a member of the drama club.”

 

"Fine, Liam’s a werewolf," Lydia flatly states.

“What?” Mason shouts, as Allison hiss out, “Lydia!”

“Liam’s a werewolf, he was bitten to save his life during the attack at the hospital and now he’s part of a werewolf pack. Oh, and don’t tell anyone, the supernatural in town like to keep a low profile,” Lydia smiles sweetly at him.

Mason stares at her like she has two heads.  Allison looks at her with ‘ _what did you just do_ ’ expression.

 

“Are you joking?” Mason asks, disbelief etched across his face.  Lydia just arches an eyebrow, enough to convey ‘ _do I look like I’m joking_ ’, “Oh my god,” Mason screeches, “You’re serious?!  How is this possible?!”

“You were just yelling like a mad man about how he had glowing eyes, fangs, and claws but werewolf never crossed your mind?  I take it back, clearly you are **exactly** as stupid as I think you are.” Lydia snaps at him.  He collapses into a nearby chair in the deserted library.

“Liam’s a werewolf,” he quietly says to himself, before nearly shouting, “McCall wasn’t anywhere near where we were and Liam shouted on him; and McCall came running into the corridor like a bat out of hell, he’s one too isn’t he?!”

“We’re not at liberty to discuss who is and isn’t…” Allison starts to respond.

“I think the cat’s – or maybe that should be wolf’s – out of the bag,” Mason quips.

“We’ll talk to the pack’s alpha and he can decide what else you’re told,” Lydia answers, “But remember you do not speak to anyone about this.  There are people that hunt werewolves; so for Liam and the pack’s safety as well as your own, tell no one.”

 

  
  


 

“Scott, I’m just…” Rafe tries to diffuse the rapidly deteriorating conversation with his son.  Between Deaton and Kennex they have stabilised Matt’s condition; the changeling has shifted to his dog form and he’s started to heal.  Scott wants to take the boy back to the Sithen.  Rafe suggested that he leave Matt here, at least until morning so that Kennex could keep an eye on him.  Scott is adamant in his refusal; his whole demeanour changing to ice cold, and he stands now staring at him through narrowed-eyes as Rafe tries to explain.

 

“No,” Scott silences him again, “He’s better off at home with his pack.”

“He’s not a werewolf, he…”

“He’s better off at home.  The Sithen is already helping one of Ethan’s cubs, it will help Matt recover too,” Scott insists.

 “I just think that moving him so soon after treatment could hamper his recovery, and if being with pack is important then you could stay with him,” Rafe says, his hands held out in a consolatory gesture.

“While I wouldn’t recommend moving an animal at my clinic after such intensive surgery, the Sithen would create a restorative environment for a changeling to recuperate, and would be better for him than here,” Deaton adds, and really Rafe wishes the man would stay out of it.  Rafe is hoping that he can persuade Scott to let Matt stay here and that he’d stay with him; away from the corrupting influence of the Fae.  Maybe long enough to get a clear head and realise how manipulative the Fae, especially the Sidhe, are.

“That’s settled then,” Scott growls at him.

 

“I don’t think staying around all this iron is good for a creature of the Fae,” Deaton dispassionately states.

“I mean did you really think I didn’t smell it in the walls and furniture?  This place stinks of it,” Scott coldly states.

“Not the most welcoming place for someone who’s Fae or a changeling of the Fae,” Deaton adds.

 

Rafe could stop them, but he doesn’t want to push Scott further away, so he lets them take Matt back to the Sithen.  But he has to find some way to make his son see the danger that the Fae are.  He turned to drink to try and blot out what was happening around him.  Unable to stop his former partner as they fell further under the control of the Seelie Sidhe that had taken an interest in him.  Watched as the man’s career and marriage fell apart as he debased and humiliated himself for the Sidhe’s pleasure.

 

His partner had been a completely straight married man.  But the Sidhe lord easily had him on his knees sucking his cock, begging to be taken.  Rafe heard him begging to be beaten, to drink the Sidhe’s piss.  He turned up at the office unkempt, wearing a mini dress, stockings and with lipstick smeared across his face; he stank of stale piss.  His wife left him, he was banned from being near his kids.  The Sidhe grew bored with him after he had ‘persuaded’ him to whore himself out.

 

Rafe had tried to talk to the Sidhe, ask him to leave his partner alone.  The Sidhe had laughed at him, asked if he was offering to take his ‘pets’ place.  Rafe found himself on all fours crawling to the Sidhe before he was able to stop himself.  That was the first night he got seriously drunk.

 

His partner blew his brains out two weeks before the Salem Accords came into effect.  He had lost his job, his house, his wife and kids; and the Sidhe lord was no longer interested in him.  Rafe couldn’t save him, but he intends to save his son.

 

  
  


 

When Scott walks through the front door Lydia and Allison are about to leave, they’re staying at Lydia’s mom’s house tonight, and Derek is scrubbing his face with his hand; it strikes Scott as the kind of gesture that Stiles’s dad does.

 

Scott is holding one of the handles of the pet carrier that Matt is in, Liam has a grip on the other.  Matt is still in his dog form and sleeping from the sedative that Deaton gave him.  Aiden comes running over to him and takes the handle from Scott.

“Take him to the pack room, maybe he’ll wake enough to turn back and get up on the bed,” Scott says.  Liam and Aiden head through the house with the carrier between them.

“How’s Matt?” Allison asks.

“He’s going to be okay, thanks to Deaton,” he replies, then adds grudgingly, “And the FBI doctor.”

“Good,” Lydia says, “We should head back to town, see you tomorrow.”

 

“What’s up?” Scott asks Derek after Allison and Lydia have left.  He recognises the unhappy look on his mate; they’ve done something to annoy him.

“Let’s head to the pack room,” Derek delays answering, and kisses his mate briefly, “There’s a demanding baby boy needing another feed, and the whole pack will need to know.  You also need to hear what Danny and Jackson found out about the changeling that attacked Matt.”

 

  
  


 

Liam is lying back on the bed his head raised by the stack of pillows he’s resting against, surveying the scene around him and trying to understand how this is his life now.

 

Matt is lying on the deb with him, his head resting on Liam’s stomach as he pet’s Matt’s fur and scratches behind his ear.  Matt’s still in his dog form, mostly; his cock and balls are still clearly human, and locked in a boy-trainer silicone cock cage.  Aiden is locked in a similar cock cage.  Stiles has the keys and neither Matt nor Aiden will let anyone try to remove them.

 

Isaac and Ethan are lying on the bed, both at the bottom of the bed and Aiden is changing Ethan’s diaper while Danny changes Isaac’s.

 

Jackson is dressed in a pair of white lace stockings, with matching bra and panties; he’s walking back and forth rocking Michael in his arms trying to get Scott and Derek’s five month old to take some milk from a bottle.

 

It’s surreal, but it’s the reality of his life and despite how different it is to his life before he was bitten he knows he feels comfortable here, and that he can talk openly about the porn he’s looked at on-line and the dreams he’s had of Deputy Parrish without anyone judging him.  It would just be a lot easier to settle into this life if people weren’t trying to kill them.

 

Liam is pulled from his thoughts when Scott and Derek, he’s still getting used to the idea that he’s a werewolf and they are his alpha’s, enter the room.

“Matt, you should change back if you’re going to sleep in the bed with us,” Scott sternly says, “You know the rules.”  Matt sleepily whines in reply.  

“But he was hurt,” Liam exclaims at the same time Aiden pleads, “Can’t he be allowed this once, while he heals?”

There’s an exchange of glances between the alphas.

“This once,” Scott proclaims, and Derek adds, “But I expect to see human Matt when we wake in the morning.”

 

At seeing his dad and oma enter the room Michael has become fussier in Jackson’s arms; his fingers twisting in and pulling at the delicate lace of Jackson’s bra as the demanding beta baby desperately tries to get to them.  Scott strips off his shirt before taking Michael from Jackson.

“Mikey, you trying to rip your Uncle Jackson’s bra off?  I know he looks much sexier and sluttier in the red one, but he’ll still be upset if ruin it,” Scott jokes as his five month old settles against him and his mouth latches onto to Scott’s nipple.

“Oh ha, ha, Scotty,” Jackson retorts as Scott leans in kisses him on the lips before he sits on the edge of the bed to wait for Michael to finish.

“Is there any change?” Scott looks over to Ethan and asks.  Ethan shakes his head, there’s been no change in his Fae son.

“He’s no worse, but there’s no improvement either,” Aiden adds.

“There must be something more we can do?” Scott wonders aloud.

“We’ll ask Deaton in the morning,” Derek states, “And ask him to come check on him again.”

“Thanks,” Ethan weakly smiles at the alpha.

 

There’s a few minutes of silence, everyone’s thoughts on Ethan’s little half-Fae boy.

 

“We need to talk about the changeling that attacked Matt,” Derek breaks the quiet contemplation of the room, “Danny and Jackson tracked her to the same building that Alpha Boyd and his pack are in.”

“What?” Scott exclaims, “Do they know?”

“I can’t believe they would be involved with them,” Ethan says, “They wanted to be free of the Queen, they wouldn’t be part of her plot against our Master and us.”

“I intend to find out,” Derek growls, “I’ll meet with him tomorrow, on neutral ground.  And there’s one more thing,” he adds, “Liam’s friend…”

“Mason?” Liam asks.

“Yes, Mason,” Derek continues, “Allison and Lydia couldn’t convince him that he hadn’t seen Liam transform into a werewolf, so he wants to meet Liam’s pack.”

“I’m sorry,” Liam worriedly exclaims from beside Matt, “I just… I couldn’t… when I saw Matt I just lost control and I…”

“It’s okay,” Scott soothingly say, “I don’t think I would have been able to control myself either if I’d been the one to find him like that.”

“We’ll deal with it,” Derek states, adding at Liam’s worried glance, “And that isn’t a euphemism for killing him, we’ll just talk to him and try to make him understand that he can’t tell anyone about us.”

 

  
  


 

Stiles has no idea how long they’ve been walking.  Everything around him is black, he only has a vague sense that he and Parrish are travelling in the direction of the Unseelie Court.  He has no idea how long he’s been gone from Beacon Hills.  He just knows he has to get back, and that his pack, and his dad, have to be alright.  But something isn’t right with Parrish.

 

“Man, you really don’t look well, Deputy McCutie” he says.

“Stiles, please don’t call me that,” Parrish responds, “And I’m fine, just a little run down.”

“Do half-dragon incubus Sidhe get sick?”

“No.”

“Then what’s making you like you’re coming down with flu or something?”

Parrish remains silent and pensive.

“McCutie do I need to spank an answer out of you?” Stiles demands.  Parrish’s eyes widen in shock and annoyance at the way his body reacts to Stiles’s threat.

“I asked you not to call me that!” he states.  Stiles just arches an eyebrow and waits.  Eventually Parrish continues, “I think, maybe, that the dreams I was having about Liam were feeding the incubus part of me.”

 

Jordan sees the moment when the lightbulb goes on in Stiles’s head.

“Wait a minute… if your incubus feeds off sex and you haven’t had any since… that incident when I spanked your ass and… since then.”

“Yes, and I was having the dreams nearly every night before then.”

“You need some alone time to spank the monkey?  Choke the chicken?  To…”

“ **No!** ”

“But…”

“ **That won’t work,** ” Jordan explains, “I’ve never had to worry about this before but… if I remember correctly incubi feed of the sexual arousal and release of the other person, not their own.  With the dreams they – we – can feed of the release our mates have, the only other way is through the actual physical act.”

Stiles is enjoying the embarrassed look and bright red colour that is creeping over Parrish’s skin; almost all of his naked body is flushed when he stops talking.

“So we need to rest up until you share another dream with Liam?”

“I don’t think one dream will be enough, and we can’t sleep out here; it isn’t safe, there are more than Soul Eaters in the deep between.”

 

Stiles takes his jacket off, folds it up, and places it on the blackness that is the ground beneath them.  A small jar rolls out of one of the pockets, Stiles picks it up.

“Get down on all fours, with your knees on my jacket,” he commands Parrish.

“What?”

“So I can fuck you,” Stiles says, adding as he holds up the jar, “It seems your dad figured I’d be sexing you up and left this jar of lube as a present; though where he got a jar of lube here… isn’t important right now.”

“Stiles, you’re under age and…”

“And I’m pack master to a harem of werewolves, and I’ve gotten three of them pregnant, so get on all fours with your ass in the air so I can prep you and fuck you until we both shoot and your incubus needs are fed.”

 

“Stiles you’re under age, and…” Parrish starts to object.

“And I’m you’re boss’s son,” Stiles interrupts him, “But you know you need this, and your dad didn’t seem to have a problem suggesting it.”

He sees the moment Parrish gives in when he sinks to the ground; his knees on Stiles’s jacket and his arms resting on the ground with his forehead against the backs of his hands.  Stiles unzips his pants and kneels between Parrish’s legs.

“I… I may not need much prep,” Parrish stammers out with some humiliation, “Being an incubus, I think we’re more…”

“Ready for the main feast,” Stiles supplies as he slips two fingers, coated with the gel from the jar, into Parrish’s puckered hole, “Have you ever had someone fu…”

“No,” Parrish gasps out as Stiles’s fingers hit his sweet spot and Stiles thrusts his fingers back and forth rubbing the spot over and over, making Jordan moan with every pass.  Stiles adds a third finger.

“Then it’s better that I’ve done some prep, you see, before I had my magic under control it would enact some of the wishes of my wolves, and one time when I was balls deep in Derek’s ass he wished I was a bit bigger.  So,” Stiles lines the head of his cock against the slicked ring of muscle of Jordan’s hole, “I ended up with a bit more than most guys,” he pushes in, sliding balls deep on a single thrust, “A full thirteen inches and bit thicker too.”

 

Jordan moans as he feels the stretch of his asshole around Stiles long, thick, shaft as it drives back and forth over his prostate.  His own cock thickening and lengthening in response to the pounding.  The only sounds around them are the moans and gasps each of them emits, and the slap, slap, of flesh on flesh as Stiles’s hips hit against Jordan’s ass.

 

Stiles’s lube covered hand grips around Parrish’s hard shaft.  He leans over his back, brings his lips next to Parrish’s ear and says, “Just imagine you’re fucking Liam’s virgin ass hole,” as he slides his hand up and down before stilling with his fingers wrapped around the head of Parrish’s cock.

 

Jordan’s imagination follows Stiles’s words.  He can see his mate laid out beneath him, ass raised and presented to him just as his currently is to Stiles.  He pushes his hips forward into tight warmth of his mate’s body, and pulls back impaling himself on Stiles’s length.  Over and over Jordan’s hips snap back and forth.

“Liam, Stiles, fuck, Liam, Stiles,” Jordan chants as his release rushes to erupt.

“Parrish, fuck, I’m, gonna, fuck…” Stiles shouts as he thrusts forward, shuddering with the full length of him deep inside the incubus; as he fills him with his release, Parrish’s own cock jerks in his hand and coats the ground below them.

 

As Stiles leans back, catching his breath, and pulls out of the deputy, a clearly refreshed Parrish rises up and stands.

“While you might be full of energy now, I need a minute,” Stiles says to the blushing deputy.

 

“Quite a show,” a voice says from a little ahead of them.   Jordan is instantly defending the still kneeling Stiles, who looks up to see the naked winged Sidhe with the shaggy shoulder-length dirty blond hair.

 

“ **RAY?** ” Stiles exclaims in disbelief.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-19
> 
> Peter skulks around the abandoned rail depot. The changelings are all in the rusting subway car discussing ‘options’. None of them want to be here long, and personally speaking Peter doesn’t want to be here at all – he was quite happy with his loft apartment, all it was missing was a nice little omega all ready to be bred – but the changelings are concerned about the metal. The iron doesn’t affect them as badly as it does the fae, but the longer they are exposed to it the greater the risk to them that it will weaken them; which is interesting as Peter wasn’t aware that it would affect them at all.  
>   
> “What are you doing?” Braeden’s voice calls at him from behind. He turns to face her as she strides towards him.  
> “I’m thinking; something I couldn’t manage inside where your group of misfits were sniping at each other,” he responds in a snarky tone, “Such a competent team you have, when one of them has already led the FBI supernatural investigations division to **MY** door,” he’s pretty sure that it was his calling them to report the attack at the hospital, but as they all suspect it was Malia’s attack on the changeling at the school he’s more than happy to let her take the blame, “Now we’re stuck here in the middle of the derelict building in the warehouse district hiding in squalor instead of…” he’s snarling at her by the time she strikes him, knocking him against the metal support that moves when he lands against it and showers them in a cloud of dust.  
>   
> 
> 
> +----+----+----+----+----+----+----+
> 
>   
> _He pushes back with a grunt; feeling the burn of thick hot shaft pushing into his virgin ass hole, but he wants this so much. He wants to feel the desire the older man has for him. The man’s hands still his movement, keep him held in place as they grip his hips tightly. The man is thrusting his cock forward and pulling back to impale himself on another’s cock._  
>  _“Liam, Stiles, fuck, Liam, Stiles,” Deputy Parrish chants over him as he ploughs into Liam’s ass._  
>  _“Parrish, fuck, I’m, gonna, fuck…” Stiles shouts as the deputy fucks himself on Stiles’s cock._
> 
> Liam wakes with a start, like the rest of his pack, at the loud plaintive crying; he and Aiden were both wrapped around Matt who was still in his dog form. Twisting around to look in the direction of the noise he felt a twinge of pain in his ass. His hand reflexively darts to soothe the pain, his fingers slide over sore puffy red hole and come away slick with copious amounts of recognisable pearlescent fluid that is leaking from it. He’d dreamed of Deputy Parrish fucking him while being fucked by Stiles, but did someone actually fuck him while he was sleeping? He can’t believe he’d sleep through that, or that one of his pack would do that without his consent.  
> 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

“RAY?!” Stiles startled, falling backwards, “What the fuck?!  You can see him too right?” he said, turning to Parrish, “Because if I’m starting to hallucinate I’m giving up now.  I mean, you’re dead, I saw you die… I’m not being haunted am I?”

“No cousin, you’re not seeing things; and I am dead,” Ray – if it is Ray – says.

“Then how…” Stiles starts to ask.

“I know you know where you are,” Ray comments, “But as all the blood clearly isn’t getting to your brain after the fun you were having…”

“Ray, if you are Ray,” Stiles interrupts; he can see that the person – if it is a person – looks like Ray, and has the same tricolour eyes of cerulean, sapphire and violet, as Ray, but…

“I’m not exactly Ray, and I shouldn’t still be here, I should have moved on already, but when I do I won’t remember, and I wanted to be able to explain, to tell you, it’s not your fault.”

“What?” Stiles asks confused.

“I know you think that you’re to blame for what happened to me, but it’s not your fault.  The brief few months where you were my Master and I was living in your Sithen, with my mates, and your wolf pack, those were the happiest months of my life…”

“But…”

“I know, you think because of what happened, with your Sithen making me run and her Charming Death being able to defeat us and kill me… you think you’re to blame, but you’re not.  You didn’t send the Death, and your Sithen is new, and you’re still learning what it means to be Sidhe Lord and the powers and responsibilities that entails.  If I hadn’t opposed the Queen and her cruelty.  If she hadn’t twisted me into her pet and plaything.  If she hadn’t then used her magic, so that she made me the person you met.  If she hadn’t sent the Death to turn me back and I hadn’t fought her magic to try and remain with you.   Think of it as being like when Death put that wall up in Sam's mind so that he will not remember Hell and his original personality returned, and when Castiel knocks down the mental barrier in Sam’s mind; that’s what she did to me before she sent me to Ethan, and what the Death when he met me.  ”

“Who’s Sam?” Parrish asks.

“Sam Winchester…” Stiles turns to Parrish and starts to explain, “He’s from a TV show, Supernatural… never mind; and if you’re comparing yourself to a Winchester,” he says turning back to Ray, “I would have thought being the Destiel shipper you are you’d have been Dean.  And none of that changes the fact that if I hadn’t thought of punishing you the way I did my Sithen wouldn’t have done what it did, you wouldn’t have thought I didn’t love you and wanted you gone; if…”

“If… there are a lot of ifs and possibilities cousin; none of that changes the fact that you are not responsible for my death, and I know you love me and were still my Master,” Ray intervenes, “And while Misha Collins is hot and I’m Destiel all the way, the Sam comparison fitted the events better.”

 

“You’re his soul,” Parrish says, trying to make some sense out of what’s happening, and bring things back from the tangent they have veered off to, “Or, the part of a Sidhe’s soul that is reborn.”

“Say what?” Stiles asks.

“When I was a kid, instead of reading me Grimm’s fairy tales, my mom always told me the old stories before I’d go to sleep at night.  It’s said that when a Fae dies their soul fractures,” Parrish explains, “It splits into pieces, each representing a different aspect of their being.  The Knowledge they held, the memory of everything they knew, were, and are; this goes to the Isle, to be with the ancestors.  The Light, their physical presence; that dims and fades leaving the world behind.  The Spark; that which gives them life, which roams the chaos waiting to be reborn.”

“I haven’t split yet,” Ray says to Parrish, “And I don’t have time to explain how,” he cuts off Parrish’s impending question before turning to Stiles, “I should have, but when you arrived here I had to take this chance.  I had to make sure you know; you can’t face her while you hold yourself responsible for what happened.”  Ray stops talking and looks up and to the left.

“What?  What is it?” Stiles frantically asks, looking in the direction Ray looked.

“No, I wish I had more time, there is so much I needed explain, but I have to split; this time literally,” Ray sighs forlornly.

“There must be something I can do, I mean if you’re here, I mean… oh, we could find someone who’s dying and you could possess them and use their body as your vessel like Castiel did when Jimmy Novak was dying in ‘The Rapture’,” Stiles enthuses.

“No,” Ray smiles at him, “There is already somewhere for me to go.  Stiles, I know you feel you need to fix this, but you don’t; you didn’t do anything wrong.  And we’re in the deep between worlds, do you know what that means?”

“We’re surrounded by soul eaters and could be attacked at any minute and are in danger for our very existence?” Stiles quips.

“That, but also, out there somewhere in the vastness of this non-existence, there’s a portal to a realm where I didn’t die and you were able to save me, and another where I was never broken by the Queen and she was defeated, and another where the Salem Accords were never drawn up and your mother never had to leave, and yet still others.  In our realm this was meant to be.  And sometime soon you’ll see me again, I won’t look like this, and I won’t remember, but you’ll look in someone’s eyes and you’ll know that in there is a part of me.”

 

He leans into Stiles and kisses him on the lips, his palm pressed to Stiles’s cheek.  As he pulls back he begins to fade and tear into three.

“And Stiles,” three voices say, “Make sure my mates know I loved them and that they made me happier than I had ever known,” he fades a little more, becoming incorporeal, “And when you’re in the Unseelie Sithen, take the left doorway,” there is barely any visible sign of Ray left as he says, “And when you get back to Beacon Hills, make sure you don’t break the Salem Accords.”  And Ray is gone.

 

  
  


 

Whatever Stiles’ cousin hoped to accomplish by coming to him seemed to have had the opposite effect.  They’ve been walking further through the deep between; the blackness seeming never ending.  Stiles didn’t stop and take a moment to process what had happened; they took off almost as soon as Ray vanished and Stiles hasn’t spoken about the meeting with his cousin’s soul.  Jordan hasn’t mentioned it, or the sex they had that has given him the energy his incubus heritage needed, he’s let the young sidhe silently contemplate as they walk.

 

Looking over at the boy – and he wishes he hadn’t thought of him as that given Stiles had thoroughly fucked him earlier – he can see the melancholy introspective expression he has.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Seriously?!  I let my Sithen chase my cousin out and then see his head cut off as he tries to defend me from the zombie-wolf of death, I get kidnapped by said zombie-wolf and he sends me through a portal as I see him about to kill the alpha of the werewolf pack I should be protecting, and I then have conversation with my dead cousin’s soul that tries to convince me I’m not to blame for his death when having accepted his submission and therefore being his Master I know I’m responsible for his well-being and safety, and as the Master of the pack of werewolves that include my mates and my best friend I’m also failing them as I have no idea if any of them are still alive or if Peter ‘freaking’ Hale has killed them all, and you want to know if I’m okay?” Stiles rants in reply.  

 

Jordan’s glad of that, it’s the first real emotion that he’s seen Stiles’s allow himself to show.  If he’d been as unaffected as he’d seemed by everything that’s happened Jordan would have been really concerned; and he can’t help but allow himself a small smile in relief.

“Don’t smirk,” Stiles grits out, his body shaking as he holds back the tears that threaten to fall at what he has lost, and the fear of what he might yet lose, catch up to him.

“I’m sorry,” Jordan quickly apologises, “I’m not smirking, I promise.”

Stiles’s hand covers his eyes, and it looks like he is trying to push the tears back.  Jordan steps towards him and pulls him into an embrace.

“No…” Stiles protests, he doesn’t want, doesn’t feel like he deserves, comfort.  Jordan doesn’t let go.

“Your cousin was right,” he says, “You’re not to blame for what happened.  You tried to protect him and you’re trying to get back to your pack.  You’re did and are doing what you should as their Pack Master.”

“You’ve never heard?  Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. Trying my best doesn’t mean anything if I still fail in the end,” Stiles gripes, “It didn’t save Ray, and it’s not protecting the pack.”

“Trying is all anyone can do,” he replies, “there’s no guarantee we’ll succeed, but if we don’t try we’ve already failed.”

“So what?  I just forget about it and move on?”

“No.  You remember, you grieve, and you do your best for your pack; I mean, you’re not about to give up and abandon them are you?  You’re still their Master and intend to support and protect them as best you can, right?”

“Of course!” Stiles cries, jerking out of Jordan’s embrace, “I’d never abandon them, they’re my family, I love them and will do whatever I can to protect them!”

“That’s what I thought,” Jordan smiles at him.

 

There’s a sudden woosh of air and they turn to see a solitary soul eater rushing towards them.  Instinctively Jordan pushes Stiles behinf him and thrusts his right hand out in front of him at the bane.  

 

A ball of swirling, roaring, red flame hurtles towards the creature and explodes on contact; turning the bane into a melting ball of dripping flame as it burns up on its path towards them.

“So, is that a dragon power or a fae hand of power?” Stiles asks.

“I don’t know; possibly a little of both I suppose,” Jordan replies, “But we should move; we need to get out of the deep between worlds, and find the portal back to Beacon Hills.”

“And my pack,” Stiles adds.

 

  
  


 

_ He pushes back with a grunt; feeling the burn of thick hot shaft pushing into his virgin ass hole, but he wants this so much.  He wants to feel the desire the older man has for him.  The man’s hands still his movement, keep him held in place as they grip his hips tightly.  The man is thrusting his cock forward and pulling back to impale himself on another’s cock. _

_ “Liam, Stiles, fuck, Liam, Stiles,” Deputy Parrish chants over him as he ploughs into Liam’s ass. _

_ “Parrish, fuck, I’m, gonna, fuck…” Stiles shouts as the deputy fucks himself on Stiles’s cock. _

 

Liam wakes with a start, like the rest of his pack, at the loud plaintive crying; he and Aiden were both wrapped around Matt who was still in his dog form.  Twisting around to look in the direction of the noise he felt a twinge of pain in his ass.  His hand reflexively darts to soothe the pain, his fingers slide over sore puffy red hole and come away slick with copious amounts of recognisable pearlescent fluid that is leaking from it.  He’d dreamed of Deputy Parrish fucking him while being fucked by Stiles, but did someone actually fuck him while he was sleeping?  He can’t believe he’d sleep through that, or that one of his pack would do that without his consent.  He looks over at Matt and sees his long doggy tongue lick along his furry stomach cleaning off what Liam realises he left there from during his dream, while Matt’s cock is an angry swollen red trapped in the confines of the cock cage.

“Sorry,” he mouths to Matt, who just wags his tail happily and stretches up to lick across Liam’s mouth, “Argh, you should turn back before doing that, doggy kisses are all slobbery.”

Matt changes back.

Liam stares into his eyes, feeling the desire to lean forward and kiss him, the shimmer of desire in Matt’s eyes that he is sure must be in his too; but after dreaming of the deputy, and his fantasies being centred on the man, it feels slightly like cheating on him.  But that’s all they are, dreams and fantasies, and Matt his here; wanting to kiss him as much as he wants to kiss Matt.  He’s about to lean forward when the distress and worry of the rest of the pack pricks at the bubble that seems to have formed around the two of them.

 

“Why isn’t the Sithen affecting the air around him like it was doing?” Ethan’s voice shrieks with panic, “No wonder he’s crying so loudly.”  He tries to soothe his son, gently rubbing his hand over his head, avoiding the drip connected to his arm.

“Ethan, I don’t think that it needs to anymore,” Derek calmly states, his hand rubbing Ethan’s back in comfort along with Aiden’s, “Everyone get some clothes on,” the alpha suddenly commands, “Scott’s coming back with his mom.”

 

Liam hadn’t realised his other alpha had left the room, too caught up with his own thoughts until Ethan’s panic snatched his attention.

 

Everyone has at least a pair of pants on when Scott comes running back into the room with just a pair of boxers covering him; his mom following right behind him, slightly out of breath.

“Try and remember Scott, not all of us have werewolf stamina,” she says catching her breath as she walks over to the crib.  After a quick examination she disconnects the drip that had been connected to him.  “Scott, get a bottle of milk please, I think Ethan will want to feed his son.”

 

She gently lifts the baby from the cot and hands him to Ethan.

“His temperature is fine, his lungs and breathing are fine, which you could probably tell from the loud crying,” she says, “He probably won’t take a lot of milk to start with, but I would expect him to start taking more normal amounts soon.  And have Deaton check him over, he has more experience with fae than I do.”

“Now, I’m going back to bed,” Melissa says as she turns to leave, “I’m glad he’s better,” she says to Ethan as she walks out the door.

 

Ethan takes the bottle from Scott, and looks down into his son’s eyes as he starts to feed for the first time in over a week.

“ **His eyes have turned blue** ,” Ethan exclaims in surprise.

 

  
  


 

Derek is surprised when instead of just Alpha Boyd turning up for their meeting, Erica and Cora were arrived too.  All three of them were nervous, and that immediately set Derek in alert.

 

“What’s wrong?” Derek immediately asked in lieu of a greeting.

“Alpha Hale, I trust all is well with your pack,” Boyd responds formally with a slight bow.

“Alpha Boyd, I wish all is well with your pack,” Derek replies, with a nod of his head in recognition of the other alpha’s conciliatory gesture of deference to him, “But I fear all is not as well as I would hope for either of our packs.”

“No, some weeks ago a new tenant moved into the building we are living in, he is a Death no doubt sent by our former mistress.  We did not wish to lead him to your master’s sithen, as we had seen him following members of your pack; specifically the fae that brought Ethan to you.”

“Yes,” Derek interrupts Boyd, “The Death is my late uncle; I killed him and became the alpha,” Derek turns to Cora, “He had killed Laura, and committed several murders in search of revenge against those responsible for the fire that killed our family.  He was out of control and insane from what happened that night.  He’s killed my master’s cousin Ray, and sent my master to the Unseelie Court, though that may not have worked; we aren’t sure where Stiles is.  Since Stiles was sent… somewhere, by Peter, some changelings have arrived and two of them have attacked the pack, trying to kill them.”

“That explains the others that arrived at the apartment; the mouthless man we haven’t seen since the attack at the hospital that was reported on the local news.  However, this morning there was a raid on the apartment by the FBI; but it has been cleared out and no-one was found there.”

 

“I don’t think it is safe for your pack to remain at the apartment,” Derek says.  He doesn’t want his sister in danger.  With Erica nearing the end of her third trimester she is in no condition to defend herself if they were to become a target.

“I agree,” Boyd calmly states, “And given Cora’s heat was eight weeks ago and she is now also with child…”

“What?” Derek chokes out.

“I had my heat, just like any other female, or omega, werewolf,” Cora says, “We hadn’t asked your pack emissary for the pills he makes your omega mates, so… you’re going to be an uncle as well as a father.”

“Despite our alliance, I plan to take Erica and Cora away from Beacon hills; at least until the situation with the Death and the Unseelie Court is settled,” Boyd flatly says.

“No,” Derek says, “There is a guest cabin in the preserve; close to Sithen, but separate from it.  Similar to those used by our other allies; Stiles father, Scott’s mother, Chris Argent, his daughter Allison, and Lydia Martin.  They use two of the cabins, so the third one is currently unoccupied; you can use that until the Peter and the changelings are dealt with.”

Derek leaves no room for debate on the matter.

 

  
  


 

Peter skulks around the abandoned rail depot.  The changelings are all in the rusting subway car discussing ‘options’.  None of them want to be here long, and personally speaking Peter doesn’t want to be here at all – he was quite happy with his loft apartment, all it was missing was a nice little omega all ready to be bred – but the changelings are concerned about the metal.  The iron doesn’t affect them as badly as it does the fae, but the longer they are exposed to it the greater the risk to them that it will weaken them; which is interesting as Peter wasn’t aware that it would affect them at all.

 

“What are you doing?” Braeden’s voice calls at him from behind.  He turns to face her as she strides towards him.

“I’m thinking; something I couldn’t manage inside where your group of misfits were sniping at each other,” he responds in a snarky tone, “Such a competent team you have, when one of them has already led the FBI supernatural investigations division to **MY** door,” he’s pretty sure that it was his calling them to report the attack at the hospital, but as they all suspect it was Malia’s attack on the changeling at the school he’s more than happy to let her take the blame, “Now we’re stuck here in the middle of the derelict building in the warehouse district hiding in squalor instead of…” he’s snarling at her by the time she strikes him, knocking him against the metal support that moves when he lands against it and showers them in a cloud of dust.

“If you have nothing useful to say then keep your mouth shut,” he snaps at him.

“Actually, given I want to get out of this rat infested hovel as quickly as possible, how about you have your rag-tag band of unmerry men focus their attention on the betas of the pack instead of the omegas and pets.  Specifically those closest to the fae Lord; that would have more chance of drawing him out of hiding and weaken, my traitorous nephew, their alpha.”

She smirks at him and turns, striding back to the subway car.

 

Whether she has her motley crew follow his advice or not he has gotten what he needed out of their altercation.  Where the rust from the support hit her skin he saw the blisters appear; like an allergic reaction.

 

“And maybe I need to teach them something about tactics when attacking a werewolf,” he calls after her, “They don’t seem very capable so far, and we at least have the space here to train them.”

 

  
  


 

The change of scenery is sudden.  

 

One moment Stiles and Jordan are walking through a blackness on what feels like hard black stone, the next they push through an unseen barrier – like the stretched latex of a balloon – and pop they are standing on grass covered earth surrounded by lush woodland.  Looking up through the canopy of the trees a brilliant bright blue sky is visible.

 

“Where in the name of the goddess are we?” Stiles exclaims, he stretches out his hand to cup one of the wild roses, “These looks like the roses that grow in…” he stops talking when the vine whips around his finger and his blood starts to drip onto the petals of the upturned flower.  Other roses on the bush gravitate towards the vine that has trapped his finger in its grip.

“Enough,” he commands the flora, “Before you bleed me to death.”  The thorns unpick themselves from his skin and the vine unwraps itself from his finger.

“I believe we are in the grounds of the Unseelie Sithen,” Jordan says; looking at the wounds on Stiles’s finger he takes it into his mouth and licks.

“I thought incubus fed on sexy-times, not blood; or are you part vampire too and didn’t tell me?” Stiles quips looking at him.

“I’m not a vampire,” Jordan replies after removing Stiles’s, now healed, finger from his mouth.

“How did…” Stiles starts to ask, staring at his no-longer bleeding finger.

“I think healing is one of my powers,” Jordan says, “Though I hope I don’t always have to lick the wounds clean to do it.”

“Okay, not an image I wanted to have,” Stiles says, his face scrunched up in distaste at whatever he imagined.  “So, how do we find the doorway Ray… Ray’s soul, mentioned?”

 

At Stiles’s question a path begins to appear before them.  A yellow path, winding its way through the trees.

“I guess we follow the yellow brick road,” Stiles says, laughing at his own joke.

“Are we sure that’s a good idea?” Jordan asks him.

“Oh, come on; don’t be a cowardly dragon.”

“Say’s the scarecrow,” Jordan answers back, “We are in the Unseelie Sithen, which is ruled over by Queen Morrigan, who happens to have sent a Death to Beacon Hills to send you to her and you want to follow where the Sithen she controls leads?”

“Exactly, we have to find her either way, so whether the Sithen is helping me or not, it’s gonna be leading me where we need to go.”  Stiles strides off following the path the Sithen is providing him.  Jordan sighs and follows him.

 

Jordan doesn’t think they have been travelling along the path for very long when they come to an opening in the side of a mound.  The path is leading them into the mound.

“I guess this is the entrance to Mount Doom,” Stiles quips.

“Stiles!” Jordan hisses.

“Did you just hiss?” Stiles says, sharply turning around to look at him, “’Cause that was way more snake like than dragon; or do incubuses – incubi? – hiss?”

“No, that was just me, not dragon or incubus me, just me, now can you stop with the jokes; something isn’t right here,” Jordan tersely answers in exasperation, “How come there’s not been one single Unseelie guard we’ve come across, or even here at one of the entrances?”

“Luck?” Stiles says, adding hopefully, “Or the Sithen is helping us?”  As he presses onward into the mound.

 

Inside the mound they stealthily move through the corridors.  Pressing themselves against the solid earthen walls and crouching low as they peer around corners to check the way ahead is clear.

“I feel like I’m playing Skyrim and delving into Bleak Falls Barrow, or the tomb at Ustengrav,” Stiles whispers.

“Well let’s hope you don’t take an arrow to the knee,” Jordan replies.  Stiles head whips round fast to question him knowing that reference, but Jordan cuts him off, “Now is not the time to question my video gaming habits.”

 

They freeze in one corridor as they hear the sound of a group walking and talking in the corridor ahead coming towards them.  The walls of the Sithen change, blocking the path they were taking and opening another that is clear of any immediate danger.

 

It happens again, and again, as they make their way deeper into the Sithen.  They reach a corridor where Stiles can see ahead of them is a doorway to the right, and another to the left.  He’s about to rush out towards the left doorway when the pathway into the corridor is blocked by the sudden sprouting of a dense thicket of the wild roses.

“Ós rud é nuair a raibh an roses fola tús a chur ag fás arís, agus mar sin go tiubh?”  They hear from the other side of the rose bush.  They both remain still and silent, waiting for the way ahead to clear.

 

When the wild roses part to let them through Stiles deliberately pricks his finger on the thorns and lets them drink a little.

“The fae of the Sithen are questioning what’s making the roses grow again,” Jordan comments, “We need to move quickly.”  Stiles nods and makes his way through the left doorway.

 

On the other side he halts abruptly.

 

The room is familiar, it looks similar to the one his Sithen created in the Umbral room to hold Ray.  The sarcophagus, the blood rose vines, and a sickly sweet smell from an urn of oil.

 

But there is one major difference.  There’s a large metal barred cell taking up half the room and on the inside, trapped in iron chains, is his mother.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-19
> 
> “Mom!” Stiles excitedly shouts, rushing to the cage only to be thrown back.  
> “My little Tiger,” Iseabail croaks from the other side of the bars, “Why are you here? I sent Drazin to warn you.”  
> “Who?” Stiles asks walking toward the cell again, only to be stopped part way and unable to get close enough to open the door, never mind get inside to free his mom from the iron chains binding her.  
> “She has warded the cell so that no Sidhe save her can enter,” Stiles’s mom explains, “She plans to use my life to create another of her Deaths as punishment for sending Drazin to warn you about the Death she already had in Beacon Hills to find you and send you to her.”  
> “What?! Wait!” Stiles thoughts jumping from wondering about the creation of Deaths back to the ward over the cell his mom is trapped in, “If it’s only sidhe that the ward on the cell stops from getting near, Parrish can you get past it?”  
> “I’m still part sidhe, remember? But I can try,” Jordan replies; he steps towards the cell, and though he can feel the resistance of the ward trying to repel him he’s pushes forward, his eyes shifting colour to a fiery orange, and he gets through to the cell door.  
>   
> 
> 
> +----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+
> 
>   
>   
> They enter the throne room to see the roses covering the walls, gazing around them as they walk across the room towards the mirror that is standing on the edge of the shadows.  
> “A bane, in my throne room,” her voice resonates around them, “I never allow pets to walk on their hind legs, or unleashed, in MY throne room; not even such a pretty one.”  
> Stiles scours the room looking for her, the dark shadows creeping out from the corners to near the centre of the cavernous room; the mirror they were heading to now vanished within the shadows.  
> “The people are overjoyed to see the roses growing again,” she continues from wherever she is hiding, “A symbol of my power; the return of our magic and the Goddess’s favour to my court. And once I have dealt with you, little lord, it will be my power that makes the roses grow.” 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are purely my own.
> 
>   
>    
> 

“You incompetent asshole!” Sheriff Stilinski snarls at Agent McCall, “You finally manage to find out where Peter Hale had been hiding – **sorry, living comfortably and in plain sight with title deeds for the property recorded in his name** – and instead of having him in custody, **INSTEAD OF HIM BEING WHERE HE CAN BE QUESTIONED ABOUT WHAT HE’S DONE WITH MY SON AND MY DEPUTY** , he’s gone.  **YOU** said leave this to your team, your experts at dealing with supernatural related crimes.  Well, look what that’s got us; nothing.”

“We will…” McCall starts to reply

“ **You’ll what?!** ” Stilinski cut in, “Just what are **you** gonna do to get back my son.  **Nothing!**   You were too busy chasing down your partner’s demons and disappearing into the bottom of a bottle that you couldn’t be there for your own son when he needed you; why would anyone expect you to be there for anyone else’s child?  That’s a mistake I made once and I’ll be damned if I do it again.  Peter Hale’s two steps ahead of you every time.  If you can’t find him, I will.  I’ll find the son of a bitch and I’ll get my son back, and don’t you dare get in my way!”

 

Rafe McCall watches Sheriff Stilinski storm out of his office, slamming the door behind him.  He cradles his head in his hands, his elbows resting on the desk.  Rafe understands the sheriff’s pain and anger more than he knows.  And if he does find Hale before his own people do any reunion with his son will be short lived.  Rafe has no choice in the matter, he has to protect the public; even if they don’t want to be.  He’s seen what the fae are capable of.

 

In time, when whatever glamour the fae has used on them wears off, they will come to understand.

 

  
  


 

Liam is tapping his foot as he sits on the couch in the den beside Scott.  He can’t help it, he’s nervous.

 

Lydia and Allison are bringing Mason here to the Sithen.  His best friend – if he’s still his best friend – is going to meet his werewolf pack.  Allison says he seems to be taking it okay – finding out that werewolves are real – and is more curious than freaked out, and Liam hopes that’s how things remain.

 

Scott places his hand on Liam’s knee to stem the constant jittering; Liam looks at his alpha apologetically.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Scott tells him, “We’re all here for you.”

And it’s true, his whole pack is here, well except for his other alpha who’s settling another werewolf pack into one of the cabins out back.  A werewolf pack that’s got two females in it.

“How come we don’t have any female werewolves in our pack?” he suddenly asks Scott, then curses his nerves making him say stuff he doesn’t mean to, and wonders if Scott, Ethan, Jackson, or Isaac are offended, “Sorry, my mouth’s running without my brain being engaged, I didn’t mean to be offensive,” and when he sees Scott’s, Isaac’s, and Jackson’s eyebrows raise he just keeps talking, “Not that you would be offended because you’re not girls, and I didn’t mean to imply you were when I…” Scott puts his hand over Liam’s mouth to stop him saying anything more.

“No offence taken,” Scott says smiling at his beta.

“Speak for yourself,” Jackson says, “Just because I’ve given birth to four beautiful babies, produce milk to feed them, and like to wear what’s referred to as ‘female clothing’ doesn’t make me female or mean I ‘identify as’ female.”

“I think our biological sex is defined as intersex,” Isaac says; he sees the looks of his pack mates and explains, “I was reading some of the bookmarked websites on Stiles’s computer about gender identity and biological sex, and stuff, and I saw in one of his notes for the bestiary, that in werewolf society we’re no-longer called omegas but IBs, intersex betas, because of ‘omegas’ now being used almost exclusively to refer to werewolves without a pack.”

“Oh,” Scott says with some confusion, before turning back to Liam and saying, “And there are female werewolves in our pack.  There’s Leilani and Laura who are in their cribs, and their sisters are part of the pack though they are fae or human, and then there are females that are close to the pack; Allison used to be my girlfriend, and Jackson dated Lydia.  We’re still friends with them and they’re… Allies.”

“Are we a gay werewolf pack?” Liam asks, when Scott removes his hand, and immediately scrunches up his face wishing he would stop talking.

“I…” Scott isn’t sure how to answer that and turns to Isaac think he might know, “I think so…”

“We’re all involved with other people within the pack who, irrespective of their biological sex, are male,” Aiden wades into the conversation, “But if we are going to label what we and our pack are, I’d say we’re queer,” at Scott’s confusion he continues, “Because we don’t fit in with cultural norms around sexuality, gender identity or gender expression, and whatever we are we’re not heterosexual.”

“But isn’t queer like an insulting term?” Scott asks as Derek walks into the room.

 

“What are we talking about?” Derek asks.

“We’re defining our gender identities and sexuality,” Isaac answers, to Derek’s further confusion.

“Why?” Derek asks with a pained expression.

“Because Liam assumed we were gay,” Jackson answers, “But, me, Scott, and you, have dated females, and now we’re in relationships with males and IBs who are also male gender so…”

“IBs?” Derek asks looking like he wished he hadn’t joined the conversation.

“Intersex Betas, we used to be omegas but that’s seen as a derogatory term now because it’s used to refer to werewolves without a pack,” Isaac replies.

“If we must define ourselves how about we leave it until after Mason leaves,” Derek advocates as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I hear Allison’s car arriving.”  The others hear the familiar sound of her car’s engine after Derek mentions it.

 

Liam’s leg starts to tap in nervousness again until Scott’s hand firmly grips his beta’s knee.

 

  
  


 

Mason walks into the house following Lydia and Allison.  The place looks like… he doesn’t know what it looks like, it just looks huge and awesome.

“They’re waiting in the den for you,” Allison says as they lead him to a large wooden double door, “just through this door,” Lydia says pointing to the door ahead of them.

“Aren’t you coming in?” he asks nervously.

“No,” they both reply, “You’ll be fine,” Allison adds, and they turn and leave him.

 

He slowly walks up to the door, his feet feeling like lead, and knocks.

“Come in Mason,” a gravelly voice that he doesn’t recognise calls.  He opens the door and walks into the room, suddenly feeling like he’s been handed over to the mafia or something.  Sitting in the centre of a large couch is a dark haired guy he doesn’t know, on the guy’s right is Isaac Lahey, to the guy’s left is Scott McCall; sitting beside Scott is Liam who smiles weakly to him.  Mason returns the smile.  On a love seat to the right of Isaac is Danny Mahealani and Jackson Whittemore; only Jackson has on a crop top and short black skirt, Mason can see the straps from a red garter belt connected to the tops of black lace stockings just below the hem of the skirt.

Mason tears his eyes from Jackson to the across the room opposite Jackson is a seat in which Ethan is sitting, at his feet his twin Aiden is sitting naked, and beside him is Matt, also naked apart from a leather collar around his neck.  Matt looks very much healed and recovered from the attack when Mason had last seen him.

 

“So, you’re all werewolves?” Mason blurts out.

“No,” the guy Mason doesn’t know answers, “I’m Derek Hale, I’m the alpha, and not everyone in my pack is a werewolf.  Matt isn’t.”

“He can’t be human either; a human would still be in hospital recovering, or dying, from the wounds he had.”

“I’m a changeling,” Matt says and shifts to his dog form.

 

It’s one thing to briefly see fangs and hair on your friend’s face, it’s another thing entirely to see someone’s face and limbs contort as the bone and muscle underneath their stretched skin repositions and reshapes itself.  Mason feints.

 

  
  


 

Violet lands with a crack as her head smacks against the metal support and crumples to the ground beside Garrett.  Malia has fared no better as she sits hunched over on an upturned barrel gasping for breath.  All three of them are covered in rust particles that are hanging in the air around them, having been thrown up by the ‘training’ Peter has been putting them through.

 

“Enough!” Braeden shouts at Peter in anger, “I thought you said you would teach them how to fight, not slaughter them yourself.”

“I am teaching them,” Peter calmly replies, “I’m showing them how they underestimate their opponent; something they need to understand before they can learn…”

“Well hopefully they’ve learned,” she replies; Peter’s brow creases in confusion until she continues, “We need to move now for an assault on the pack of doggies.”

She laughs as Peter lets out an outraged snarl at the insult.

“Save it,” she snaps at him.

“Just where are we supposed to be assaulting them?” Peter asks.

“At their Master’s Sithen,” she replies, “Your nephew has just taken our Queen’s Brutal, Wicked, and Beautiful Deaths there for their protection.”

“Boyd is working for the Queen again?”

“No, I merely used my skills to sneak into their apartment, place some listening devices, and a tracker in one of their phones.”

“The Sithen will block the signal,” Peter points out with some satisfaction.

“But they won’t be in the Sithen, they are in cabins at the back where the fae Lord’s father lives, and when we attack them and the humans that live there the doggies will come running to us.”

 

“But we need to recover from the ‘training’,” Malia protests.

“You can recover on the way there,” Braeden retorts.

 

  
  


 

“Mom!” Stiles excitedly shouts, rushing to the cage only to be thrown back.

“My little Tiger,” Iseabail croaks from the other side of the bars, “Why are you here?  I sent Drazin to warn you.”

“Who?” Stiles asks walking toward the cell again, only to be stopped part way and unable to get close enough to open the door, never mind get inside to free his mom from the iron chains binding her.

“She has warded the cell so that no Sidhe save her can enter,” Stiles’s mom explains, “She plans to use my life to create another of her Deaths as punishment for sending Drazin to warn you about the Death she already had in Beacon Hills to find you and send you to her.”

“What?! Wait!” Stiles thoughts jumping from wondering about the creation of Deaths back to the ward over the cell his mom is trapped in, “If it’s only sidhe that the ward on the cell stops from getting near, Parrish can you get past it?”

“I’m still part sidhe, remember?  But I can try,” Jordan replies; he steps towards the cell, and though he can feel the resistance of the ward trying to repel him he’s pushes forward, his eyes shifting colour to a fiery orange, and he gets through to the cell door.

“Should I ask why your pretty friend is naked?” Stiles’s mom asks as she looks appreciatively at Parrish.

“Because my clothes burned up when the car I was in exploded in a ball of fire after being struck by lightning,” Jordan answers.

“And it makes appreciating his cute butt easier,” Stiles says waggling his eyebrows at the Deputy as he makes his way into the cell to help free his mom.

“So you’re a fire bane,” Iseabail says to Parrish.

“How did…”

“I saw your eyes burn orange,” she replies as they remove the last of the chains.

“Cool,” Stiles exclaims, “Maybe you’ll shift to your dragon form soon.”

“Who holds your leash?” she asks Jordan as he helps her stand from the chair she was chained to.

“I do,” Stiles replies as Jordan was about to say no-one.  He blushes at the look from Stiles’s mom, but he doesn’t contradict Stiles’s assertion; he knows how some fae are about unleashed banes being near, let alone in, their Sithen.

 

“With the ward dispelled she will be aware that I’ve been freed,” Iseabail states as she walks from the cell, her strength and power returning as the iron no-longer weighs her down, “So we had best make haste, there’s an exit from the Sithen this way.”

“No; we’re heading to the throne room, there’s a mirror I can use to create a portal back to my Nemeton in Beacon Hills,” Stiles states.

“Tiger, if she even suspects you’re here that is where she will be waiting, we can’t…”

“ **Yes we can** , I have to get back to my pack, to my Sithen,” Stiles firmly states, “I need to know that they are safe, and that the zombie wolf hasn’t harmed them.”

 

Iseabail recognises the set look on her son’s face.  There is no changing his mind on this; they are going to the throne room.  She isn’t sure how much of it is from the dominant nature he gained from her, or the Stilinski trait of stubbornness from his father.

“Zombie wolf?” she asks.

“Yeah, while we head to the throne room you can explain more about the creation of Deaths that you mentioned; I think I need to know more about it, something tells me it might affect some werewolves I know and have a vested interest in keeping alive.”

 

As they head out into the corridor she notices the blood roses now growing in the corridor, and how they follow her son.  She realises that the Sithen is leading him where he wants to go, and that the Unseelie Sithen has no desire to let him leave and every intention of making her Tighearnach the King of the Unseelie Court.

 

  
  


 

Mason wakes up to a big wet slobbering kiss… no… that was a lick from a dog’s tongue…

“Matt, I told you about doggie kisses,” he hears Liam’s voice, and realises he wasn’t dreaming.  Opening his eyes he see the dog turn back into Matt who licks along the side of Liam’s cheek, making his friend blush.

“You’re awake,” Liam yells when he notices that Mason’s eyes are open.

The rest of the guys… the werewolf pack, Mason corrects in his head, are still around with varying worried looks as they watch him.

 

“It’s all real,” are the first words that leave Mason’s mouth, “I mean I saw your eyes change colour, and I saw the hair sprout over your face, and I was sure of what I’d seen; yet somehow I still thought maybe it was all a prank, even though I knew it couldn’t have been.”

“Are you alright?” Derek asks cautiously.

“Yeah, just… surprised is all,” Mason answers trying not to stare too closely at Matt and Aiden’s naked bodies, “So, can you all do that?”

“No,” Aiden answers, “Only Matt can turn into a long haired German Shepherd, but Derek has a full wolf form, and Scott.  The rest of us only have the wolf-man form.”

“Can I see?” Mason eagerly asks.

 

Before Mason gets an answer the shrieking scream of a banshee rings through the Sithen, and Scott’s mom comes running into the room.

“Peter and what Chris believes are the Queen’s changelings have surround the cabin that the other pack are in with mountain ash; they’ve set it on fire!” she yells, “We can’t get near it…”

“Danny, Aiden, Scott, with me, everyone else into the pack room and look after the babies,” Derek commands.

“But…” both Liam and Matt start to protest.

“Matt, you’re still recovering; Liam, we need a beta in the Sithen,” Scott cuts them off.  What he told Liam was true, he just omitted that Liam was also very new at being a werewolf and he wanted to keep him safe.

 

As they reach the cabins it’s clear that Boyd, Erica and Cora are trapped inside the ring of mountain ash that’s around the burning cabin.  Chris is fighting a female that none of the pack recall seeing around school.  The sheriff is fighting Garrett who’s striking at him with a blade at the end of his lacrosse stick; Violet is sneaking up behind the sheriff.  Allison is keeping Malia and Peter at bay with volley after volley of arrows.  Derek sends them after their targets.

 

Danny swipes Garrett’s feet out from under him.  Scott leaps onto Violet knocking her back from the sheriff.  Aiden knocks the women fighting Chris away from the mountain ash, slashing at her face with his claws.  Derek pounces on his uncle.

 

“What have you done with Stiles?” he snarls down on Peter; his claws tightly pinching at his neck.

“Grip a little tighter; that will make it easier to answer,” Peter wheezes through the crushing grasp Derek has on him, “Fine, I merely sent him home; where all the Unseelie fae should be.  Unfortunately he never got there, hence his aunt sending them.”

“If I didn’t need you alive to bring him back…” Derek starts to say.

“As if that’s going to happen,” Peter intervenes, grabbing hold of Derek and bringing his leg up between them to throw him off.  Derek lands on his back, turning to rise he sees the fight ongoing between the others.

 

Allison and Malia are fighting hand to hand; Allison blocking Malia’s attacks with her longbow.

Aiden knocks the two revolvers out of Braeden’s hands before she has a chance to fire them.

Chris and the Sheriff have broken the barrier around the cabin and are getting Boyd, Erica, and Cora to safety.

Danny has knocked Garrett’s stick from his hands and is wrestling him to the ground.

Violet jumps Scott from behind looping a red hot wire around his neck and pulls it tight.

“ **Scott!** ” Derek screams

“ **No!  Scott is MINE!** ” Peter yells, pulling a sword seemingly from thin air.

 

  
  


 

“So, the Deaths really were dead, and she used her magic to bring them back,” Stiles recounts what his mom has explained, “And it’s her magic that is keeping them alive.”

“Yes.  Though her Charming Death, Peter Hale, was different.  She used the life force and magic of a Tuatha Dé Danann prisoner to…”

“A what now?”

“A Sidhe of the Seelie Court,” his mom replies, “She now believes it was a mistake to do so and that it’s made him too independent of her; he has no loyalty to her, her magic is not keeping him alive, and the life she gave him was not of her court.  Which is why she planned to use an Unseelie Sidhe to create her next Death.”

“You,” Stiles realises, “What happens to the Deaths that her magic is keeping alive if she dies?”

“They die.”  It’s not the answer he wanted to hear.  He can’t kill the Morrigan; he won’t lose Ethan and Aiden, losing Ray was already too much.  And he won’t be responsible for killing Boyd, Erica, and Cora.

 

They enter the throne room to see the roses covering the walls, gazing around them as they walk across the room towards the mirror that is standing on the edge of the shadows.

“A bane, in my throne room,” her voice resonates around them, “I never allow pets to walk on their hind legs, or unleashed, in MY throne room; not even such a pretty one.”

Stiles scours the room looking for her, the dark shadows creeping out from the corners to near the centre of the cavernous room; the mirror they were heading to now vanished within the shadows.

“The people are overjoyed to see the roses growing again,” she continues from wherever she is hiding, “A symbol of **my** power; the return of our magic and the Goddess’s favour to **my** court.  And once I have dealt with you, little lord, it will be my power that makes the roses grow.”

 

Stiles, his mom, and Parrish are frantically searching the room from where they stand, back to back, near the centre.  She must be in the shadows somewhere, and his mom is casting light to every corner, but the light is swallowed by the darkness.  It hits Stiles like someone switched on a lightbulb in his head.  She isn’t in the shadows, she is in the darkness; she is the Queen of Air and Darkness.  It could be why her voice appears to be coming from anywhere and everywhere at the same time.

 

Stiles catches a flicker of lights, almost like little flashes of lightning, from the direction he last saw the mirror.  Just as the lightning arcs out towards them he pushes his mom and Parrish out of the way; stepping to the side, he knows he has to get away before he is struck, and he stands in the shadow.  

 

As the bolt strikes where Stiles had been standing he emerges in the shadows on the other side of the room; he recognises the new hand of power for what it is and knows he needs to give an offering of blood to make it permanent.  He knows that the lightning thrown at him was not called down; it was created by the Queen’s magic, she doesn’t have the hand of power to call natural lightning.  But Stiles does.  As he steps from the shadows a rumble of thunder is sounds high in the ceiling above them, the air above charging itself before a bolt darts down and strikes where he saw the flicker of light before the Queen struck at them.

 

The dark shadows recede to the corners of the throne room as the Queen is thrown back by the discharge of Stiles’s lightning bolt.

“Call me Zeus,” he quips.

Parrish’s eyes are a fiery orange as he draws his hand through the air and throws a ball of fire in the Queen’s direction.  She draws the darkness around her like a shield and the fire just wraps around the darkness and fades.

“Tuirenn will be displeased, he was once worshipped as Taranis and was never fond of anyone boasting of having powers like his own,” her voice again coming from all around.

 

The dark shield around the Queen ripples, suddenly breaking apart and flying towards him like a murder of crows.  Stiles looks around him, but there is no shadow anywhere nearby for him to step into; not since the Queen’s darkness retreated to the edges of the room.  His mom and Parrish are throwing whatever offensive power they have at swirling mass of darkness, but it separates around any danger.

 

He can’t outrun it, and before he can manifest another lightning bolt he’s surrounded by the solidifying blackness; a hard shell of the dark around him.  The sounds from outside it, of his mom and Parrish striking it with whatever they can, echo around him.

 

Inside the Queen grins at him.

“Now I take what should be mine,” she snarls, with her arms outstretched and her mouth wide, and Stiles feels the very air sucked from his lungs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-21
> 
>   
>  Stiles isn’t sure where the light within the shell of darkness is coming from, but it’s not giving him any shadows he can use to escape. He’s gasping for air that just isn’t around him, falling to his knees the Queen is suddenly beside him, a familiar sword held in her hand over head.  
> “I called my Mortal Dread back to me,” she says.  
> As she swings the blade down Stiles catches the shadow she casts over him, the sliver of grey to the left, he falls towards it and as he emerges at the edge of the shell he sees his right hand at the Queen’s feet.  
>   
> He looks down where his right hand should be. His shirt darkened with his blood, but already the bone and tissue has started repairing itself.  
> “What the fuck?!” he exclaims, but he’s fighting for his life and doesn’t have time to wonder what it means.  
>   
> He sees the look of rage on the Queen’s face. He has to weaken her enough to get away, for the barrier to fall and give him, his mom, and Parrish time to get through the mirror; he can’t risk killing her, not when it would mean an end to Aiden and Ethan’s life.  
> 
> 
> +----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+
> 
>   
> Then some ten days ago the reports started.
> 
> First they appeared on youtube and Instagram; videos and pictures of supernatural creatures, werewolves, werecats, and fae of varying scary forms. Not just sightings in the US, but across the world.
> 
> Then they were on the news. A dragon was filmed by a TV news crew as it flew over Yosemite National Park. Then there was werewolf saving a little girl as she crossed the road in front of a speeding car in the middle of London, the werecats that stopped a mugger trying to steal an old lady’s purse in France, the fae standing in a circle in the middle of Central Park casting magic to help the flowers grow, and the unicorn running across the Golden Gate Bridge. There have been no sightings of the supernatural in Beacon Hills.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> And for their help in rewording some of the conversations so that it better fit with my intention for the scenes.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

Peter knows the only way to make things right, to take Scott as his mate like he should have been, is by killing his nephew to become the alpha of the pack once more; just as his nephew did to him.  He has to kill Derek and save Scott from the psychotic changeling strangling him.  Peter brings the sword down to strike through Derek’s neck, only for the sword to vanish from his hands.

“No!” he wails, as Derek takes the opportunity to grasp his uncle around the neck and squeeze until Peter passes out.

 

With Peter subdued Derek turns to rush to his mate’s aid.  But is stopped in his tracks as he turns and sees the scene.

 

Scott has a hold of the wire she has around his neck in one hand, holding it away from his throat and he has shifted to his beta form as he turns to face Violet, but his eyes are not silver they are a crimson alpha red; paler than Derek’s own, but there is nothing that doesn’t roar alpha about them.  Scott grabs hold of the front of her jacket with his other hand and whips the changelings head back against a tree; knocking her unconscious.  Scott turns around and heads towards Garrett and Danny; Allison is handling Malia without much trouble, so Derek sweeps in behind Braeden to help Aiden.  He’s about to take her legs out from under her with a sweeping kick when he’s pulled back and Peter has him on the ground, his claws digging into Derek’s throat as his other hand is above his head; his claws out and ready to strike.

“Think I was down for the count nephew?  Don’t worry, I’ll make Scott soon forget all about you.”

 

  
  
  


 

Stiles isn’t sure where the light within the shell of darkness is coming from, but it’s not giving him any shadows he can use to escape.  He’s gasping for air that just isn’t around him, falling to his knees the Queen is suddenly beside him, a familiar sword held in her hand over head.

“I called my Mortal Dread back to me,” she says.

As she swings the blade down Stiles catches the shadow she casts over him, the sliver of penumbra to the left, he falls towards it and as he emerges at the edge of the shell he sees his right hand at the Queen’s feet.

 

He looks down where his right hand should be.  His shirt darkened with his blood, but already the bone and tissue has started repairing itself.

“What the fuck?!” he exclaims, but he’s fighting for his life and doesn’t have time to wonder what it means.

 

He sees the look of rage on the Queen’s face.  He has to weaken her enough for the barrier to collapse.  Once the barrier to falls it will give him, his mom, and Parrish time to get through the mirror; he can’t risk killing her, not when it would mean an end to Aiden and Ethan’s life.

 

He can hear the attacks by his mom and Parrish still taking place, and he feels the vibrations of the barrier being shaken by them.  He focuses on the Queen, wondering why she hasn’t attacked again yet.  Then he realises that her focus is on keeping the barrier up.  She doesn’t have as much strength left as he thought, she must have weakened herself significantly with all her efforts so far; by putting the barrier in place, calling the sword back from zombie wolf, creating the lightning she used to attack him, and filling the room with darkness.  

“Tell me little lord, how did you keep my traitorous Deaths alive when I stopped letting my magic sustain them?” she asks, and Stiles knows she’s playing for time, to let her recharge, but he also knows she is speaking the truth.  She is no-longer keeping Aiden and Ethan alive. 

“Well, you know far more about how to do that than I do,” he replies.

She snarls her frustration at him, purses her lips and blows.  The force of the air coming at him pushing him back against the darkness.

 

Stiles wants to cut off her air supply as she had done to him.  He’s suddenly no-longer being pushed back.  He imagines the air being sucked out of her lungs, and she is gasping for breath, her hands flying to her neck and eyes wide in shock and disbelief.

  


#### »»»»»»»»»»----------««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»----------««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»----------««««««««««

  


In a last desperate attempt Iseabail throws what magic she has left at the barrier of darkness as Parrish hurls another ball of fire.  To their relief and amazement the barrier shatters, but the scene that greets them is completely unexpected.  The Queen is on her knees unable to breathe, the sword Mortal Dread lying on the floor beside her, and Stiles standing a few feet away staring her down as the air shimmers and whirls around him, with drips of blood falling from the cuff of his sleeve where his right hand has been lost in the fight.  Iseabail knows instantly that he has the Hand of Air, just as the Queen does, and that he is killing her.  

 

She knows that if he succeeds the Sithen will never let him leave.   Just as she knows that Stiles’s power exceeds her own; she has seen him use the hand of blood, lightning, shadow, and air, and she knows he also has the hand of truth.  Five hands of power.  Most sidhe, like herself, have at most two, as a Pack Master he should have four.  To protect Stiles she has no choice, she can’t allow him to kill the Morrigan.

 

She rushes to the Queen’s side, her hands flying to grasp the sword, and raising it above her head she draws it down on the back of the Morrigan’s neck, slicing through the flesh and bone.  The head rolls along the floor until it bumps against Stiles’s right hand and promptly stops.

 

There is a flash of light before Iseabail and the crown of the Unseelie throne is hovering in the air.  She knows that the Sithen is offering her the throne only because she killed the Morrigan, and therefore it recognises that she has the power to restore it and the court to its former state, but court politics and intrigue are a tricky waters to navigate and she wonders if she has the political support to survive against the coups that will follow from the Morrigan’s supporters?  She also knows that if she doesn’t take the crown the court will fall into civil war from the power struggle the death of Queen will create, and somehow the crown will end up on her son’s head; because that’s what the Sithen really wants.  There’s only one way for her to protect him from that fate.

 

The roses that have grown thickly around the walls of the room rustle in excitement.  Stiles looks around and realises they are blocking every entrance to the room.

“How did they grow so quickly?” he asks aloud.

“Power,” his mom replies, and she knows that her son doesn’t realise she means his.

“So, aren’t you gonna accept the crown?” Stiles asks her, “I can’t imagine it’s gonna hang there for ever.”

“Only if you choose not to accept it,” she replies.

“Why would… Isn’t the throne being offered to you?” Stiles asks, a slight confusion in his voice.

“Yes, but if you want it…”

“No, even if I was the one… my home is Beacon Hills, the only place I’d accept a crown for is there, where my pack and my dad are, I can’t stay here…” he trails off as an angry rustle sounds from the thicket of roses, a thorny vine wrapping around his ankle, he looks down as he gasps in pain.  The roses have turned against him.  They have cleared from the entrances and sidhe of the queen’s guard are rushing into the room.

 

“STOP!” his mom’s voice commands, full of authority; Stiles looks back to her as the roses loosen their grip on his leg, the crown now firmly on her head as she stands with the sword in her hand still dripping with the Morrigan’s blood, “I am Iseabail, Queen of Life and Old Blood, Queen of the Unseelie Court, and I proclaim Tighearnach of Beacon Hills an ally of the Unseelie, no harm shall be allowed to come to him and his by this Court, now and for ever more.”

 

The guards fall on one knee, bowing to their new Queen; some more quickly and willingly than others.

 

“So, if you’re now a Queen, does that make me a Prince?” Stiles asks.

“Not anymore,” his mom replies.

“Huh?”

“You declared yourself to the court, my little prince, and it listened, you may not have felt it, but when you said you would only accept a crown from the mortal realm, and claimed that as your home, you forfeited any claim you held to either the Seelie or Unseelie throne,” she explains, “And as you were not born here you don’t have a standing title in either.  It’s why I proclaimed you as an ally of the Unseelie, but your great-great uncle is the only one that can declare you an ally of the Seelie Court.  Don’t worry,” she says pulling him into a hug and kissing his forehead, “You’re still my little prince, Tiger.”

 

Stiles wraps his arms around her, holding on to her with his one hand, ignoring the rows of sidhe warriors that are still kneeling waiting on the recognition of their Queen; she his mom, and he is just so grateful to be able to have his mom hold him.

“I’ve missed you mom,” he sobs the tears of joy and sorrow against her neck.  He knows he has to go home, and he wants to, he wants to see his mates, his pack and his father, everyone he loves and cares about; but he’s missed his mom so much, and this time together isn’t enough.

“I’ve missed you too, my baby boy,” she says, “But you have a pack to save, a father to make sure eats healthily, and a dragon to fit a collar to; and I need to get this place cleaned up before your next visit.”

“I can visit?  Of course, I can visit, and I can bring your grandkids to see you too,” Stiles excitedly exclaims.

“Grandkids?”

“Yeah, there’s nine so far, technically they’re not all mine.  Derek and Danny are fathers to some of Isaac’s and Jackson’s babies too, and Derek’s the father of Scott’s twins, they’re the eldest and are five months, but they are all mine too; and Ethan is expecting eight, so…”

“Tiger, powers of fertility cause nothing but trouble, you need to get them under control sooner rather than later,” she admonishes him.

“I’m working on it,” he says, then sadly adds, “I need to go.”  He doesn’t want to, he wants to stay in his mom’s arms, but, now that the Morrigan is no-longer a threat and his life isn’t in danger, talking about the kids has made him realise just how much he is missing his pack, the kids, and his mates.

“Yes, you do,” she gently kisses his cheek.

 

“Do you want to take this with us?” Parrish says holding Stiles’s right hand up having picked it up from the floor.

“Yeah, we can see if Deaton can reattach it,” Stiles replies.

“You’re already healing…” his mom starts to say.

“Yeah, but I figure Deaton will know something to…”

“No, you underestimate your healing powers… Tiger, you’re part nightflyer, and that part of our heritage is stronger in you than it is in me.  What that means is you’re regenerating a new hand to replace this one.”

“Like when the Doctor lost his hand on Christmas, but he regenerated it in minutes?”

“Regrowing body parts isn’t a simple thing, and as it was Mortal Dread that was used to remove your hand, you’ll need at least half a day to fully repair itself…”

“Does this mean I’d regenerate any body part I lost?”

“Mostly,” his mom answers, “Full sidhe may be immortal, but we can still be killed, even with nightflyer regenerative powers; if you’re killed by iron, by Mortal Dread, or your head is severed from your body.”

 

“So, you don’t need the hand?” Parrish asks.

“Hell yeah,” Stiles shouts, “We’ll take it with us and I’ll keep it in a jar like Torchwood did with the Doctor’s.  But don’t worry I don’t plan on pouring regenerative energy into it and growing a second Stiles.”

“Huh?” Parrish crinkles his brow in confusion.

“You’ve never watched Supernatural, and you don’t get Doctor Who references?” Stiles questions in disbelief, “We are so having a SuperWho marathon when we get home.”

 

Stiles’s mom turns to the guards and instructs them to wait outside until she sends for them.  Turning to the mirror she opens the portal to the Nemeton and turns back to Stiles and Parrish.

“Now when you next visit, make sure you have a collar on your dragon here,” she says with a smirk.

“Don’t worry, I have a temporary one in the playroom I intend to put around his neck until I can get his proper one,” Stiles replies; much to Parrish’s embarrassment, and he again wishes that he had some pants on to hide his reaction to Stiles’s promise.

“Love you mom,” Stiles kisses her on the cheek.

“Love you too, son,” she kisses his cheek in return.

 

With his right hand stuffed in his pocket Stiles and Parrish enter the mirror.

 

  
  
  


 

Derek’s eyes track along Peter’s arm up to his clawed hand about to strike down on him, getting ready to retaliate and end his uncle’s existence once and for all, when his attention is drawn to the sight of a very naked Deputy Parrish falling towards them; and then he sees the black wings flecked with white and gold.  Stiles.

 

Stiles sweeps down practically throwing Parrish at Peter Hale, with strict instructions not to kill him.  Parrish barrels into the zombie wolf, knocking him off Derek, and rolling with him until he has Peter held to the ground.

 

Stiles lands in the middle of the fighting, the sound of rolling thunder crashing overhead as he calls the lightning to him.  The fighting around him stops and he signals Parrish to let go of Peter.

 

“No-one threatens or harms my pack,” Stiles snarls at the prone wolf; the roar of the storm now overhead matching his anger, “Why couldn’t you stay dead zombie wolf?”

“You were supposed to arrive in the throne room,” Peter states, “She wanted you… more accurately you’re power…”

“We just left the throne room, she failed.” Stiles interrupts him, “The Queen of Air and Darkness is dead, and there’s a new Queen of the Unseelie; Iseabail, Queen of Life and Old Blood.”

 

Peter rushes at Stiles, he knows that he has no chance of claiming the pack as his while their Pack Master lives.  The bolt arcs down from the sky, striking the ground in front of him and sending him, scorched, flying back as he flips over and lands on his stomach.  He suddenly can’t breathe, the air pulled from his lungs and nothing replacing it.  He gasps as he looks up at the face the sidhe lord staring at him with his face filled with hate.

“You,” Stiles points at Peter, using what would have been is right hand, the pack and his father gasping in shock when they see the stump where the missing hand would have been, “Are a very stupid, very dead, wolf!” 

 

Braeden is the only changeling that is not unconscious; she sees her opportunity to escape while everyone’s attention is on the sidhe and the Death.  If their Queen is dead, and given the evidence of the injury and that he’s using the hand of air against the death she is sure it is true, she has no quarrel with these wolves or their sidhe Master.  She runs for the trees.

 

“Stiles… your hand…” his dad’s shocked voice calls out.

“Seriously?!  Zombie wolf, portal, Unseelie court, the Morrigan, big fight; what do you think happened?” he snaps at his father; there are shocked ‘Stiles’ exclaimed from his pack at the outburst from him to his dad, ignoring it he turns his attention back to Peter, “She used the same sword you used to kill Ray.  Unfortunately I don’t have it with me, but I don’t need it to kill you, again.”

“No-one is killing anyone,” Rafe McCall’s voice sounds across the clearing.

 

When Stiles turns to face the FBI agent, Peter takes his chance with the fae distracted.  He leaps to his feet, his claws extended ready to rip into Stiles’s throat.  Stiles sees the change in the shadow cast across the ground, he falls into the shadow as Parrish’s instinct to protect him kicks in and he shifts to his half-dragon form; placing himself where Stiles had been standing, his skin a mosaic of red and ash-black like molten lava, and his wings spread wide.  Parrish throws a ball of fire at Peter’s chest, hurling him back.

“You got your dragon form!” Stiles exclaims as he emerges from the shadows behind his dad, “That’s so cool.”

“He’s a weredragon?” Scott asks in confusion.

“No,” Rafe replies, “He’s a fire bane and as far as I know they aren’t allowed out of the deep between worlds unless, I believe the term is collared, because they are so dangerous.”

“He’s half-dragon half-fae, and he’s collared by me,” Stiles firmly states, he doesn’t see the surprised look his dad gives him and Parrish, or the embarrassed look on Parrish’s – once again human – face, “I just haven’t had time to put the collar round his neck yet.”

“Well then, he can go back to the Unseelie court with you,” Rafe smirks.

 

“The Accords state that fae are only to be returned to the court they are from,” Chris states.

“And I am not from the Unseelie or Seelie courts,” Stiles smirks back, “So you can’t send me back.”

“All fae are from one of the courts, and there are only two courts,” Rafe retorts, “And given you stated that your mother was now the Queen of the Unseelie, it’s not hard to work out therefore that you are also Unseelie.”

“But I’m not!” Stiles reiterates, “This is my home, this is my Sithen, and this is where I belong, with the people I love; my mates, my dad, and my pack of wolves, a changeling, and a half-dragon. And our kids.”

 

By now the two field agents with Agent McCall have Peter contained and are securing the unconscious changelings.  No matter how much Stiles tells the man that he doesn’t belong in either of the fae courts the agent is insistent that he has to return to the Unseelie court; that, as per the Accords, no fae can remain here.

 

“ **I’m not letting you take my son from me,** ” Stiles father snarls at Rafe, “You might care more for your job than your own son, but I…”

“I had no choice but to take Scott in when he gave the bite to that boy…”

“Even if it ended in him being executed…”

“ **What?!** ” Stiles roars.

“Even if,” Rafe continues ignoring Stiles, “Just as I have no choice but to send any fae, including your son, to the Unseelie Court where he belongs; the fae courts agreed, they signed the Accords, no fae of either court would be on this side of the hedge.”

 

The mood from the pack is becoming increasingly hostile, with his dad, Chris, Derek, Aiden, Danny, Scott, and Parrish lined up against Rafe and the two agents; and Stiles can feel the land rumble.  He quickly realises that it’s not just him that can feel the ground shake, as roots break out of the ground and slither towards the FBI agents.

“ **STOP!** ” Stiles yells, and the flora stills its rustling and movement, “We don’t want things getting out of control.”

“I have to abide by the…”

“I know,” Stiles says, as he remembers Ray’s words, “Parrish and I will go with you, but you’re making a mistake.”

“Stiles?!” his dad, Danny, Derek, Aiden, and Scott all call out.

“It’s fine, I doubt he has the power or authority to send me anywhere, all he can do is yell for a few hours, I’ll be back in no time,” he says, turning to Parrish, “You remember Ray’s words?”

“Ray?!” Aiden asks, shocked at the mention of his name.

“His soul in the deep between worlds?” Parrish asks; at Stiles’s nod he replies, “Make sure you don’t break the Accords.”

“So I won’t.  I’m guessing these Accords are like an Oath that’s been taken by the USA, the Unseelie, and Seelie; I might not be a member of either of those two fae Courts, but to avoid any trouble here on my pack’s land we’ll go with the Scott’s dad and his men.”

 

It takes a little while longer for Stiles to get his pack, and his dad, to calm down.  Then he and Parrish are driven off in the back of a black SUV.

 

  
  
  


 

“So, you’re Drazin?” Stiles asks, peering through the bars to the cell across the corridor from the one he and Parrish are locked in, “You’re shorter than I thought you’d be, and more raptor like.”

“I don’t know what a raptor is my Lord Tighearnach, and I am sorry to have failed you,” the goblin-kin replies.

“Failed me?”

“Yes Sire.  When your werewolf, Scott, was in the cell because he had bitten the boy, Liam, he was lamenting your absence because of the Queen’s Death sending you to her.”

“LIAM!” Parrish shouts leaping from the cot he was sitting on.

“Relax, Liam will be fine,” Stiles tells him, grabbing the front of the orange jumpsuit the FBI have given Parrish to wear, adding absently, “Orange so isn’t your colour.”

“You’d rather I was still naked?” Parrish snipes.

“Yes,” Stiles replies, “At least then I could appreciate your very fuckable ass, but given they took the jar of lube and my old right hand off me before locking us up in here it’s probably for the best.  Now sit back down while I talk to my raptor friend over here and find out what happened.”

 

Parrish sits down, the heat colouring his cheeks and pooling in his groin at what Stiles implied; he remains quiet while Drazin tells them what he knows about Scott biting Liam.

“So, Liam is now a werewolf at my Sithen with the rest of the pack,” Stiles muses, “I didn’t know Scott could give someone the bite with him being an omega.”

“I’m so sorry Sire,” Drazin says, “That I didn’t warn you in time about the Death.”

“That’s hardly your fault.”

“But now they are going to send you back to the Queen of Air and Darkness, and…”

“The Morrigan is dead, my mom killed her and she is now the Queen of the Unseelie.”

“The Lady Iseabail is now Queen?”

“Yes, and despite my telling the federal agents that I’m not a member of the Seelie or Unseelie court they still intend to try sending me to the Unseelie Court because my mom is the Queen.”

“But… if you’re not then…”

“I’ve told them they’re making a mistake.”

 

  
  
  


 

Agent Hanscum has advised him to wait and check with head office if it’s possible that any fae would not be part of one of either of the courts.  But Rafe **_knows_** that’s not possible, he’s certain that it’s just another trick by the fae to try and manipulate him, to stall his return to Arcadia.

 

He has to proceed with the extradition.  The sooner the fae is out of this realm, the sooner the Sithen dies and the influence he has over those living there, including Scott, will end.  Then his son, and his pack, can have a normal life; free of fae control.

 

  
  
  


 

“What?  No final requests?  No last meal?” Stiles jokes as he, Parrish, and Drazin are bundled into the back of a black van and driven somewhere untold.  At least to them.

 

Several hours later they are being herded into a dull grey bunker of a building with no windows that Stiles can see.  They go down a set of earthen steps and into a circular room with wooden panelled walls.  In the centre of the room is a wooden circular dais, and on the outer edge of the dais, one third the circumference apart, are two ornate mirrors.  Looking more closely at the dais, and the wood ‘panelling’ he realises they’re at the site of another nemeton.

 

He thought he’d at least get to see his pack again before they tried to send him to the Unseelie Court.

 

Rafe strides onto the dais and waves a hand over the ornate design on the frames of the two mirrors.  The glass stops reflecting the room they are facing and brief swirls of hazy smoke clear to reveal Stiles’s mother sitting on the Unseelie throne, and who Stiles can only assume is Tuirenn, King of the Seelie, sitting on the radiant gold and silver throne of the Seelie Court.

“Now it’s time to stop your lying,” Rafe turns and snarls at Stiles, “Do the right thing and return to the court you came from.”

“ **I’m not lying** , I don’t belong to either court,” Stiles adamantly states, “My home is Beacon Hills, where most of the people I care about and love are right now; that’s my home, and that’s where I belong.”

 

“Agent McCall,” Iseabail calls through the mirror, “I can assure you on my word of honour that Tighearnach of Beacon Hills is not one of the Unseelie.”

“You’re his mother for Christ’s sake, how can he not be from your court when he’s from your…”

“ **AGENT MCCALL!** ” Tuirenn bellows, “It would do you well to remember to whom you are talking.  And as the King of Storms and Light, Ruler of the Seelie Court, and Tighearnach’s Uncle I can assure you he has no place in my court, he is not one of the Seelie.”

“You’re all liars and manipulators, he has to be Unseelie, he has to belong on the other side of the hedge; away from my son before he can manipulate him further and ruin his life.  I won’t allow him to do to Scott what Lugh did to me… to my partner,” Rafe rages at the mirrors.

“My nephew has paid for his crimes against you,” Tuirenn calmly states, “As have all of the fae of both the Seelie and Unseelie Court, now forced to remain on this side of the hedge.”

 

“Agent McCall,” everyone turns to the sound of Agent Hanscum’s voice as she comes running down the steps, “You have to stop, I’ve sent a message to head office; I think there might be…”

“ **NO!  He goes back now!** ” Rafe shouts as he grabs hold of Stiles and throws him at the portal to the Unseelie Court.

 

The portal doesn’t allow Stiles to pass.  

 

He lands against the glass of the Unseelie mirror and cracks, the sound echoed from the Seelie mirror as that breaks too.

“What have you done?” Hanscum asks McCall.

“What he has done my dear, is break the Accords.  The Salem Accords were written to maintain the boundaries from both sides, while no fae of the Seelie or Unseelie Courts would again cross the hedge into your realm, only fae of the Seelie or Unseelie Courts would be allowed to cross the into our realm,” Iseabail coldly states.

“What does that mean?” Stiles asks.

“It means that the Accords are moot, and the provisions written in them no longer apply.  Not only are you, a Sidhe that is not of either Arcadian Court, allowed in realm of your father, but the fae of both courts are now free to cross the hedge unconstrained,” his mother answers; turning her attention to Agent Hanscum, “Unless your government negotiates a new Accord with us.  But trust me, while the Queen of Air and Darkness was desperate to have her fae return I am not so weak of power to need them contained within my court; and after the ill treatment my son has received at your governments hands through its agents I am less than willing to be conciliatory.”

The Unseelie mirror darkness, no longer even reflecting the room in its cracked surface.

“And Tighearnach of Beacon Hills will have a seat at the negotiating table,” Tuirenn commands before the Seelie mirror turns dark too.

 

Hanscum turns to face Rafe McCall, he looks broken and defeated.

“This isn’t good,” Hanscum says.  Stiles isn’t sure if she is referring to Rafe McCall or the situation in general.

 

  
  
  


 

It’s been two weeks since the changelings attacked and the FBI took them, Peter, and Stiles away.  John Stilinski has been unable to get any information out of the FBI office, or even talk to Rafe McCall.  Constantly being told that he is on temporary reassignment, and that Agent Hanscum will get back to him regarding his enquiry as soon as she is back.

 

Deaton is sure that Stiles is still on this side of the hedge.  The Sithen seems just as strong and powerful as ever, and he tells John, and the pack, that if Stiles were forced to join the Unseelie Court the Sithen would be weakening as it died.

 

Then some ten days ago the reports started.

 

First they appeared on youtube and Instagram; videos and pictures of supernatural creatures, werewolves, werecats, and fae of varying scary forms.  Not just sightings in the US, but across the world.

 

Then they were on the news.  A dragon was filmed by a TV news crew as it flew over Yosemite National Park.  Then there was werewolf saving a little girl as she crossed the road in front of a speeding car in the middle of London, the werecats that stopped a mugger trying to steal an old lady’s purse in France, the fae standing in a circle in the middle of Central Park casting magic to help the flowers grow, and the unicorn running across the Golden Gate Bridge.  There have been no sightings of the supernatural in Beacon Hills.

 

Now the President is on TV confirming that the supernatural world does indeed exist, and that Accords have been agreed with the Council of Elders and representatives of the United States, and Allied countries, to ensure peaceful coexistence.  People had questions; like how long had the government been keeping the existence of the supernatural a secret, and just who were these Council of Elders.

 

John’s phone rings, taking his attention away from the news broadcast.  He’s sure it’s either gonna be the station about public panic regarding the broadcast, or the pack panicking about the broadcast.

“Stilinski,” he wearily answers.

“Dad, it’s me.

“Stiles?!”

“Yeah, we’re back at the FBI office, can you come and pick us up?  We can finally come home.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-22
> 
> John Stilinski hugged his son tightly, not wanting to let go; needing to know this was real and not another dream.  
> “God, kiddo, I thought I’d never see you again,” he said, his voice gruff against Stiles’s ear; Stiles was holding him just as tightly, and it took John a minute or two to realise it was with two hands.  
> “Me too,” Stiles replied as he started to cry.  
> “You got your right hand back?”  
> “Yeah, fae genetics; it grew back,” Stiles answered, too emotionally exhausted to explain or make a joke about being in his first fifteen hours of regeneration; his dad wouldn’t get the joke anyway.  
> “How about I get you home?” John asks, “There’s a lot of other people that will be happy to see you. I kinda rushed down here without telling them.”  
> “Sounds good to me,” he flickeringly smiles, “I can’t wait to see the surprise on their faces.”  
>   
> 
> 
> +----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+
> 
>   
> “I want to kick him where he’ll feel it!” Melissa seethes, “Give him a fraction of the pain he caused; I just don’t understand how he could do that!”  
> “Fear,” Stiles explains, “He was trying to protect…”  
> “ **Protect himself from what?!** ” Scott yells, “ **He had no right to take you from us!** ”  
> “He wasn’t trying to protect himself,” Stiles calmly continues, “He was trying to protect **you** , from me.”  
> “ **What?! Why would he think he needed to?** ”  
> “Because of a Seelie Court Sidhe named Lugh, and I don’t know the details of what he did to your dad and his partner, but it isn’t something he’s over and he doesn’t like fae very much because of it. He also didn’t want there to be any chance that I’d misuse my powers and force you to…”  
> “ **You’d never force any of us to do anything!** ” Scott screeches.  
> “Are you forgetting what happened before I found out I was fae and had powers?” Stiles asks, “How I brainwashed Danny and Jackson? How I coerced Greenburg into forgetting what he saw and the damage that almost did to him?” 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> And for their help in reworking some of this so that it better fit with my intention for the scenes.
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

John Stilinski hugged his son tightly, not wanting to let go; needing to know this was real and not another dream.

“God, kiddo, I thought I’d never see you again,” he said, his voice gruff against Stiles’s ear; Stiles was holding him just as tightly, and it took John a minute or two to realise it was with two hands.

“Never gonna happen,” Stiles replied as he started to cry; overjoyed at being home again.

“You got your right hand back?”

“Yeah, fae genetics; it grew back,” Stiles answered, too emotionally exhausted to explain or make a joke about being in his first fifteen hours of regeneration; his dad wouldn’t get the joke anyway.

“How about I get you home?” John asks, “There’s a lot of other people that will be happy to see you.  I kinda rushed down here without telling them.”

“Sounds good to me,” he flickeringly smiles, “I can’t wait to see the surprise on their faces.”

 

John’s attention falls to the two figures standing behind his son waiting silently during their reunion; he’s glad to see his deputy is clothed again, but the open collar of his shirt does nothing to hide the metal collar around his neck.

“Parrish,” he greets the… half-dragon, and it’s difficult to think of his deputy as such even though he has seen him transformed.

“Sir,” Parrish replies.  John doesn’t ask about the collar, figuring Parrish or Stiles will explain when they’re ready; not that he wanted to know that much about his deputy’s personal life.

“Drazin,” John turns to the goblin-kin, “I thought you’d have returned to the Fae-Wyld?”

“Other plans for me Eriu has,” he cryptically replies.

 

“Let’s get home,” Stiles says heading to the cruiser.

“I take it everyone’s going to the Sithen?” John asks.

“Yeah, dad, but can we stop for curly fries on the way.”

 

Jordan and Drazin are in the back of the cruiser while Stiles sits quietly in the passenger seat, picking at the curly fries, as his dad drives to the Sithen.  Stiles’s thoughts are caught up in the events of the last week and half he spent helping to draw up of the Independence Accords with the Council of Elders.  Not that they actually met in Independence CA, technically it was actually a little further north in the Nemeton at Blackrock Springs; but they all agreed Independence sounded better.  It may have kept him away longer than he would have liked, but at least they were able to define the relationship between the human and supernatural worlds.  

 

  
  
  


 

There’s a rustling through the Sithen’s roses that grows in excitement.  It’s making the pack nervous; they can feel that something is agitating the Sithen, but can’t sense what it is.

 

Derek’s the first to hear the sheriff’s car approach the main entrance; even though he usually keeps the cruiser out near the cabin he shares with Melissa and Chris.  All four doors can be heard opening and closing.

“Stiles!” Derek barely says before the whole pack is racing for the door; Liam trailing at the back, unsure what to expect or how the pack’s Master will react to him being part of the pack.

 

Jackson and Danny wrap themselves around Stiles, each holding him tight and tucking their heads into either side of his neck, needing to breathe in his scent and know he is home, safe and unhurt.  The rest of the pack hold back impatiently, nearly vibrating with the need to touch, smell, and scent their master, but wanting to allow his mates their time with him first.

 

Liam watches as one by one the rest of the pack hugs, scents, and kisses – not entirely chastely – Stiles after Jackson and Danny.  All of them initially ignoring the small raptor looking lizard-dog and Deputy Parrish standing behind him.  The glint of the metal collar around the deputy’s neck catches Liam’s attention; it makes him wonder if that means the deputy is now Stiles’s slave like Aiden or pet like Matt, but both of them wear a leather collar around their necks… and what about the two legged lizard?

“Liam!” he hears Scott call his name sharply, his attention drawing back to the pack and Stiles, he realises they are all looking at him and have been for a time.

“Sorry,” he says walking to Stiles, not sure what he’s supposed to do, or what he’s allowed to do.

“It’s fine,” Stiles says to him, “I guess this is still a bit overwhelming for you; how are you settling into the pack?”

“Fine,” he replies, standing awkwardly in front of Stiles; unsure of himself until Stiles pulls him into a hug and whispers quietly into his ear, “Is this okay?”  Liam sighs contentedly, soaking in the scent of pack, home, and safety that surrounds him in Stiles’s embrace.

“Okay,” Stiles suddenly says, “We should head inside, and call Melissa, Chris, Lydia, and Allison over…”

“And Mason,” Scott, Derek, and Liam all add.

“Mason?” Stiles asks.

“My friend,” Liam answers, “He found out about me being a werewolf when I lost control at school when Matt was attacked and…”

“Okay,” Stiles interrupts, suddenly realising that it’s not just him that has information to impart; there is a lot he needs to catch up on from his pack too, “Let’s get everyone together, Boyd’s pack too, there should be enough room in the den; there’s a lot to talk about.”

 

  
  
  


 

The hugs Stiles received from Lydia, Allison, Mama McCall, and Chris were just as long and hard as the ones from the pack.  From Mason he just received a nod and ‘Hi’ in greeting.

Melissa was furious about her ex-husband’s actions.

 

“I want to kick him where he’ll feel it!” she seethes, “Give him a fraction of the pain he caused; I just don’t understand how he could do that!”

“Fear,” Stiles explains, “He was trying to protect…”

“ **Protect himself from what?!** ” Scott yells, “ **He had no right to take you from us!** ”

“He wasn’t trying to protect himself,” Stiles calmly continues, “He was trying to protect **you** , from me.”

“ **What?!  Why would he think he needed to?** ”

“Because of a Seelie Court Sidhe named Lugh, and I don’t know the details of what he did to your dad and his partner, but it isn’t something he’s over and he doesn’t like fae very much because of it.  He also didn’t want there to be any chance that I’d misuse my powers and force you to…”

“ **You’d never force any of us to do anything**!” Scott screeches.

“Are you forgetting what happened before I found out I was fae and had powers?” Stiles asks, “How I brainwashed Danny and Jackson?  How I coerced Greenburg into forgetting what he saw and the damage that almost did to him?”

“And when you realised how you’d affected Danny and me, and what was happening with Greenburg, you undid it as soon as you could,” Jackson states.

“And,” Danny picks up the argument before Stiles can reply, “With Jackson and me all you did was make us accept what we already wanted before we were ready to admit it; Greenburg you didn’t intentionally harm, you were trying to protect us.”

“Yes, what I did happened with the best of intentions, but I didn’t have full control of my magic and things went wrong; but can you imagine what a fae with little concern for free will and full control of their powers could do to someone.  I could never intentionally harm any of you, those that would harm you I’d happily feed to the roses, but the fact that I couldn’t harm you doesn’t change the fact that Scott’s dad did what he believed was right to protect Scott and the rest of you; so for that I won’t condemn him.  No matter how wrong he was about me his intention was good,” Stiles says, “Even now I don’t have all of my powers under total control or Ray would still be alive!”

“You don’t know that,” Parrish speaks for the first time since arriving at the Sithen, “And Ray said you were not responsible for his death; the blame lies with Peter Hale and the Morrigan.”

 

“Ray’s dead,” Aiden warily says, “How did he say anything?”

“In the deep between worlds, where the soul eaters are, souls are waiting to be reborn.  Ray was there, and he said I shouldn’t blame myself for his death; that it wasn’t my fault…”

“Well, he’s right,” Aiden sharply says, “It isn’t your fault, it’s his for being a lying…”

“Aiden!” Ethan sharply silences whatever his brother was about to say.

“So, what’s been happening while I was away?” Stiles asks; feeling a change in topic is required, and that he needs to talk with Aiden and Ethan later.

 

The pack settles around the den.  Stiles on the love seat, with Danny beside him and Jackson sitting on his lap.  Parrish sit on the chair nearby and Drazin sits on the floor between the chair and the love seat.  Aiden and Matt are on the floor at Stiles’s feet.  Derek is seated off centre on the large couch, Isaac on one side of him and Scott on the other; Liam is sitting on the other side of Scott.  Mason is in the chair near Liam.  Lydia and Allison are on the other love seat.  Melissa is in the centre of one of the smaller couches, with John and Chris on either side of her; and Boyd is in the centre of the final couch with Erica and Cora on either side of him.  The two couches were brought down from the mezzanine level and the ground floor level of the den is looking almost cramped.  The pack talk about what happened since Stiles’s disappearance, and Stiles and Parrish explain what happened in the deep between and at the Unseelie Court with the Queen of Air and Darkness.  Everything is covered through to their reappearance and being taken into custody by Agent McCall and the breaking of the Salem Accords.

 

“So,” Stiles says, “The supernatural closet door has been thrown open and the world knows we’re all around them.”

“Yes,” Chris says, “The President was on air earlier making the official announcement, and stating that new accords have been agreed with the leaders of the supernatural communities to allow peaceful co-existence.”

“Yes, the Council of Elders – seriously, why did no-one tell me that there was a supernatural shadow government that has existed since the Roswell Accords – met with government officials and drew up the Independence Accords.” 

“That are still to be voted on, before it can be enacted into law,” Chris remarks.

“Yes, but it turns out some people on both sides of the House and the Senate also answer to the Council of Elders,” Stiles answers, “And they expect to get it through without any SHRA amendments being added, albeit by a slim majority.”

“SHRA?” Chris and John both ask.

“Super Human Registration Act,” Scott and Stiles answer; at the confused looks from them Stiles adds, “You know, from Superhuman Civil War , where Nitro and some other villains are fighting the New Warriors and Nitro explodes killing a huge number of civilians including school children so the government introduces a ‘Living Weapon of Mass Destruction’ registry for all super-powered individuals and it leads to a Civil War between superheroes… anyway, the point being that they don’t expect any amendments like all supernaturals needing to register stating what they are and be monitored.”

Stiles continues, “What the Accords do cover is that all supernaturals are protected by the anti-discrimination laws, the Supernatural Investigation Division of the FBI will be moved to a branch of the US Marshalls with responsibility over any crime involving a supernatural as either the perpetrator or the victim; no more hunters and their code can kill any of us without it being openly investigated by a US Marshall as a potential hate crime.

Lands that can be shown to belong to supernaturals, and where there is a sizeable community of supernaturals living and working there, can be decreed to have Council Sovereignty.  Where the tenure of the land is held by a werewolf community then the laws agreed by the Lycan Council apply and the SID investigate any crimes.  If the tenure is to an Unseelie fae community then the laws agreed by the Unseelie Court apply, you get the idea right?”

“When you say ‘the laws agreed by the Lycan Council’, what does that mean exactly?” Derek asks.

“It means that the local pack, in agreement with the Lycan Council, can make amendments to the local, state and federal laws, and those have primacy on their land,” Stiles answers

“Could we get Council Sovereignty?” Derek asks, “This land has been held by the Hales for over two centuries.”

“We will, assuming the Accords are actually enacted,” Stiles smugly states, “Though, it would mean we basically out ourselves as not being human.  The problem for the Council is I’m the Pack Master and not the pack’s Alpha, so I don’t answer to the Werewolf Council, and as I’m not part of the Seelie or Unseelie Courts we’re not under their authority either.  Which means that I wouldn’t need their agreement on any changes I wanted to make to the local laws.  I would be solely responsible for deciding the laws of the land.  All of the Hale lands, and the wildlife preserve where my Sithen has influence would be solely ours.”

 

“They wouldn’t agree to a high-school student having…” Chris starts to exclaim as Stiles’s dad says, “You’ve got to be joking; they wouldn’t let you make laws without any…”

“ **They** ,” Stiles cuts them both off, “Didn’t really have a choice. I’m a Fae acting as the Pack Master of a werewolf pack, they all have a very loose claim.  There’s just no supernatural governing body that has clear authority in this situation and, one group trying to claim us in their hierarchy would just lead to infighting with the rest.  Which is why they decided that I would need an advisor, an advisor that would have access to the Council of Elders, and would pass along the Councils advice, but fundamentally the decision is mine.  **Within the lands of my Sithen I am the law**.”

“Advisor?” John and some of the pack ask.

“Yes.  Most of the Council of Elders had ideas on who I should pick, and they didn’t seem overly happy when I said I wanted Drazin as my Comhairleoir.”

“It is unheard of for one of my kind to hold such a position, Sire,” Drazin comments.

“They’ll get used to it,” Stiles assertively states.

“For them to have decided how you would govern and have appointed an Advisor suggests they expect the bill to pass,” Chris says,

“Yeah,” Stiles replies contemplatively, before enthusiastically adding, “Don’t know about you, but I’m starving; so, how about some lunch?”

 

  
  
  


 

The dining room is set out informally, with tables set against the walls and laden with finger food.

 

“Lord Tighearnach,” Boyd greets Stiles just as he’d taken a bite of the pizza that was laid out on the table before him.  Stiles holds up his other hand to stop whatever question was about to be asked as he finishes the mouthful.

“Just Stiles, Alpha Boyd,” he replies.

“As you wish, and should call me Boyd,” he says looking at both Stiles and Derek, “Do you believe that the Accords will be passed without incident?  That the humans will accept integration of the supernatural into their lives easily?”

“No,” Stiles says, “I think the bill will be enacted, but I there will be those that oppose it and oppose us purely because we’re different from them.  I don’t think peaceful co-existence will be reached easily, but eventually; though I fear what it might cost to achieve it.”  Stiles takes another bite of pizza as those around him silently contemplate what the cost might be.

 

Liam has stuck close to Scott since they walked into the den.  Even now in the dining room as Liam watches Deputy Parrish standing with Stiles, Alpha Boyd and Derek, while he is next to Scott who’s feeding Michael.

“You know you should go and talk to the man,” Mason says next to him.

“Dragon,” Scott corrects him.

“I thought you said he was half-dragon?” Liam questions him; his eyes still on the Deputy and the metal collar around his neck that no-one had explained yet.

“Pedant,” Mason quips, “It doesn’t change the fact he won’t know you dream about him f…”

“NO!” Liam hisses quietly at his friend, “Everyone will hear you, well, all the wolves and maybe half-dragons will hear you.” Liam blushes as he sees the half-dragon in question raise his eyebrows as he look across at him.

 

The doors to the dining room open and Aiden, Ethan, Danny, Jackson, and Matt are wheeling in the cribs with the rest of the babies; fed and changed.  Cora and Erica are cooing over the cribs as Stiles strides towards the bassinets grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ve missed our little babies,” he cries, “And there are eight I’ve still to meet.”  He looks to Ethan, “Have the little munchkins been given names yet?”

“No Master, we were waiting for you to return,” Ethan replies, “And… Scott suggested… as the fathers normally pick the names, maybe for Ray’s everyone could put names into a hat, and randomly pick them out so I didn’t know who suggested the name and then I decide on Ray’s babies names.”

“Is that what you want to do?” Stiles asks him.

“Please?”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Stiles tells him as he sits on the chair beside the cribs that Ethan’s eight are lying in; while Ethan sits in the chair beside him, Aiden sits quietly at Stiles’s feet.  Stiles can feel the stillness of him since Ethan mentioned Ray’s name; he runs his fingers through Aiden’s hair, and his slave relaxes into the touch.

 

Stiles looks over into the cribs and smiles at the eight new little bundles lying there gurgling up at him.

“This little boy gave us a scare,” Ethan says, his fingers stroking at the cheek of the boy.  The child’s eyes open and smile at his oma; Stiles gasps and as the babies gaze turns to him he finds himself looking into familiar tri-coloured eyes of cerulean, sapphire and violet.

“Ray,” he intones in a hushed gasp, but every wolf in the room hears him.  “He has Ray’s eyes,” he adds a little louder, smiling softly at Ethan, before looking up at Parrish as both of them remember Ray’s words in the deep between.

 

  
  
  


 

Everyone except the pack have left the Sithen; he’s told them what’s essentially in the Accords that could affect them, and the only thing they can do now is wait until the bill passes through Congress and the Accords are enacted.  They just need to carry on as before until then, and be more vigilant in hiding what they are as they go about their lives outside the Sithen.

 

Stiles is alone in the pack bedroom with Aiden, Ethan, and Ethan’s babies.  The rest of the pack are still in the nursery with the rest of the babies; as they left the others there Isaac was playing peek-a-boo with Lucas, and Scott was chasing after Michael who was crawling away from his diaper being changed.

 

Stiles is sitting on the bed with Ethan pressed against him on his right, and Aiden on the floor sitting back on his heels with his head in Stiles’s lap.  Stiles wraps on arm around Ethan and with his other hand cards his fingers through Aiden’s hair.

“So, didn’t anyone take the chastity cage off either you or Matt while I was gone?” he asks Aiden; it’s not what he wanted them alone to talk about, but he’s stalling and it’s something that needs to be addressed anyway.

“No, we didn’t want them too,” Aiden replies, “Only you get to put them on us and only you get to take them off.”

“Okay, then tomorrow night is just me, you, and Matt in one of the other bedrooms before we come back in here for the puppy pile sleepover.”

“Thank you Master,” Aiden replies, his eyes wide in pleasant shock; he didn’t think he would be so high up the list to spend time with Stiles when he returned.  He was sure that his alpha, Scott, Isaac, and Ethan, would all have been after Stiles’s mates and before him.

“Given how long you’ve been locked in that now I think you deserve release for being so good for me,” Stiles smiles at him, “Now,” he pauses and stalls trying to think how to proceed, “There’s something that happened while I was in the deep between that I promised I’d tell you both about, and it involves Ray.”

 

 “So, you remember earlier how I said about the deep between and meeting Ray?” Stiles asks them.

“Yeah,” Ethan cautiously replies; Aiden remains silent.

“Well, he wanted me to tell you something.”  Stiles tells them what happened to Ray at the Queen’s hands, how she broke him, remade him to send to infiltrate the Sithen, and then returned him to the Ray he was those final days.  Stiles tells them how Ray wanted him to let them know that he was sorry, how the months with them had been the happiest of his life, and that he loves them very much.

“ **NO!** ” Aiden barks, startling Stiles and Ethan, the tears clearly visible on his cheeks, “I won’t forgive him, it doesn’t excuse what he did to me, Matt, and Ethan; I… I don’t want him to love me… I wo… I **don’t** love him.”  The lie in his words clear to both Stiles and Ethan.

 

Stiles and Ethan pull Aiden onto the bed; wrapping themselves around him in a comforting cocoon of limbs and scents.

“You’re right,” Stiles says, “It doesn’t excuse what he did.  Believe me, I’m not trying to excuse his actions.”  Aiden whines his agreement, and Stiles continues, “I know right now you hate him for what he did, and I understand that, I hated him too.  But I know that deep down you, and Ethan, do still love him; even though you don’t want to, he was your mate. That makes what you and Ethan are feeling so much harder.  The betrayal of what he did, mixed with the loss of a one of your mates; it can’t be easy to deal with.”

“I can’t forgive him,” Aiden cries against Stiles’s shoulder, and Stiles knows that Ethan is crying too.  He reaches over to hold Ethan closer, with Aiden between them.

“I know,” Stiles says quietly, “I just wanted to try and help you understand why he acted so out of character.  I thought maybe some understanding would help you let go of the anger; not forgive him or excuse him, but just help you let him go.”

 

The rest of the pack finds them curled together, emotionally drained and their faces tear stained.

“I thought we were gonna name the babies?” Scott asks.

“We are, Scotty, we are,” Stiles answers, “We’re not using the usual rules, we’ll put all the names in a hat and Ethan picks the names and gets to veto.”

 

Ethan’s babies are soon all named.  Brady, Dawson, Dearbhail (Derval), Eireann (Erin), Kalea, Gabriel, Caitlin, and Cianan (Keenan).

“Can I give Cianan a second name?” Ethan asks.

“You can give any of them a second name if you want to,” Stiles says.

“It’s just, what you said about his eyes, I want to name him Cianan Reamann.”

“Then that’s his name,” Stiles answers, stretching over the bed and kissing Ethan’s forehead.

 

  
  
  


 

Stiles collapses back on the bed, Jackson crawling up against his right side, and Danny on his left.

 

They are in their own room.  They need some alone time, but they intend to go back to the pack room to sleep as the whole pack still needs to be together with Stiles only just being back.

 

“Are you doing okay?” Danny asks.

“Yes and no, but mostly yes now that I’m back with you guys and everyone else,” Stiles answers, leaning into kiss his mate.  Danny smiles into the kiss, and Stiles licks along his lips seeking entrance.

“I need kisses too,” Jackson whines, and Danny whines at the loss as Stiles lips leave his and he turns over to give the same attention to their other mate.

 

The kissing and cuddling switches back and forth between them, and they soon nap; all too emotionally drained from the day to take things further than making out and cuddles.

 

When they are making their way back to the pack room after waking Stiles pulls Jackson into an embrace and kisses him on the lips.

“In the morning I’m picking out your clothes for school,” Stiles smiles at him.

“Okay,” Jackson answers in puzzlement, but doesn’t get the chance to ask why.

 

  
  
  


 

Jackson’s heart is thumping in his chest as he puts on the clothes that Stiles has laid out for him to wear to school.

 

The white smooth satin and lace bra and panty set, with the lace trim along the top of the bra cups and the front of the panty.  White sheer nylon/lycra stockings with a six inch silicone lace top, with a white lace garter belt.

The plain black Stella McCartney skirt was just covering the tops of his stockings, just being within the school dress code.  The white linen Armani blouse didn’t look that different from one of his shirts.  And finally there were the shoes, well ankle boots; a pair of black suede Jimmy Choo ankle bootie, with a three and a half inch heel.

He finished dressing, knowing his pack were going to smell hot hard and wet his little cock was under his clothes, and decided on using a blue nail polish; a little colour among all the black and white he was wearing.  It should work with the Armani two-tone black and blue blazer he’ll wear.

 

He looks at himself in the full length mirror, liking the way the stockings show his legs and the skirt hugs his ass, before heading out to where the rest of the pack are waiting to drive to school.

“You look good,” Danny calls out as he enters the hallway; the rest of the pack turns to look and he sees the smiles and appreciative glances from his pack and mates.

“Very prim and proper,” Scott adds.

“Everything is within the school’s dress code,” Stiles says, “I checked before laying out for him, so they have no reason to object to him dressing how he wants; we have federal and state laws, and the school district policy on our side.  I checked; they have policies prohibiting discrimination based on gender identity or expression, so they can’t stop Jackson dressing in a gender non-conforming way.”

“Well it’s not like either of us has been strictly dressing in a gender stereotypical way anyway,” Scott states, “We’ve both been wearing a bra to hold the pads to stop our milk leaking through our shirts for months.”

“And I don’t think getting pregnant and producing breast milk is exactly gender stereotypical either,” Jackson snorts, adding enthusiastically and with a smile on his face, “Now come on; I want to make Lydia jealous of the Armani and Jimmy Choo boots that Master bought me.”

 

  
  
  


 

Jackson was nervous as he walked down the school corridors.

 

There was some giggling, some cat-calls and comments, and he saw some of the girls openly gawping, probably jealous that he could look this good in clothes they’d never get the chance to wear.  But with his pack around him he ignored them all.

 

He’d barely sat down in his first class when he was called to the Principal’s office.

 

The Principal was sitting stiffly in the chair behind his desk, he pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose with one finger as Jackson entered.  He motioned to the chair across the desk from him and Jackson took the seat, sitting with one foot on the floor and his legs crossed at the knee.

 

“Mr Whittemore,” the Principal began, and then didn’t seem to know where to look as he tried to avoid staring at Jackson’s stocking clad legs.  He dragged his gaze to Jackson’s eyes, “I… I… Do you…”

“Is there a problem, Sir?” he asks.

“You haven’t worn… this sort of attire to school previously, is there a reason that you have chosen to wear… to dress like this today?” the Principal stammers through.

“Well,” he’d been expecting to be questioned about this and had prepared himself for it, “I’ve kept it secret for a while, and decided that I didn’t want to anymore; that I wanted to be myself and wear clothes that make me feel good about myself.  With the support of my friends I found the courage to do that.”

“And these friends aren’t forcing you to…”

“NO!”

“It’s just such a… change from… and I’m not aware of any documentation being received regarding your transgender…”

“ **I’m not trans** ,” Jackson shouts, “I’m male, but I prefer to dress in what society would consider female clothing.”

“I… I see,” the Principal says looking as though he doesn’t see or understand at all, “I don’t think… you see I don’t think it would really be advisable for you to dress this way at school…”

“But my clothes are within guidelines of the school dress code!”

“Well… not entirely, given the circumstances…”

“What circumstances?”

“Well, I have to consider the appropriateness of your attire, and…”

“But there is nothing inappropriate in what I’m wearing!”

“Well, I can’t entirely agree on that; they may be suitable for a female student, but I do think that allowing a male student to dress in such a fashion has the potential to not only disrupt the normal school activities and classes, but would also potentially harmful to your own well-being.”

“What?!”

“Well, other students may not be as accepting of your chosen clothing, and…”

“This is unfair!”

“I’m sorry, but I have to insist that you wear appropriate attire to attend this school, to ensure that there is no disruption to the learning of other students… and for your own safety.”

“You can’t do that, the state laws and the local school district policies state that I…”

“Those policies are the protection of transgender students to ensure that they are not discriminated against, while they currently exist.  And there are already several groups lobbying against them with some success.”

“But…”

“I’m sorry, but I’ll need to contact your parents…” he looks at the file in front of him on his desk, “I mean your guardian, Sheriff Stilinski, and have him take you home to change before allowing you back into the school.”

 

Jackson sits quietly.  What had started as one of the best days of his life, suddenly leaving him feeling totally crushed.

 

  
  
  


  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-23
> 
>   
>  Derek is stretched out naked on his back. His arms tied to either side of the headboard, and his legs pulled up, ropes wrapped around his knees and ankles are tied to the same corners of the bed’s headboard as his wrists; leaving his ass open and available.  
>   
> “So Sourwolf,” Stiles drawls as he rakes his fingers through Derek’s chest hair, he hasn’t called him ‘Sourwolf’ in a long while, “Right before I was kidnapped I gave strict instructions to Scott that he was to get everyone back to the Sithen; that I wanted everyone safe and this was the safest place. I remember saying that clearly to Scott on the phone.” Stiles pinches Derek’s left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulling lightly as he twists, “You were aware of that right?”  
> “Yes, Sir,” Derek hisses in reply.  
> “And yet you nearly get yourself killed by creepy zombie wolf of death,” Stiles growls at him, “I was stuck in that magical trap and the last thing I saw before being disapparated to the deep between was Peter about to kill you. You risked your life trying to save me when I had said you were all to stay safely in the Sithen; so, this is the first part of your punishment.”  
>   
> Stiles crawls up between Derek’s stretched open legs and Derek feels the slick coldness of the lubricant as Stiles’s long fingers push inside him, opening him up and going for that sweet spot that Stiles knows where to find. Stiles deft fingers quickly hit the mark, and press and rub over Derek’s prostate making his toes curl and a needy whine escape from his throat as he tries to push back against Stiles fingers only to be held in place by the ropes tying him to the bed.  
>   
> 
> 
> +----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+
> 
>   
> Both Aiden and Matt tended to be naked within the Sithen anyway, apart from their collars and the chastity cages locked around their cocks, preferring to only wear clothes when they were going out in public or there were non-pack visiting the Sithen, so neither had anything to remove when Stiles took them to one of the rooms.
> 
> From the moment they entered the room he could feel the anticipation rolling off Aiden, and Matt’s tail was wagging uncontrollably; clearly showing his excitement. Stiles fastened wrist cuffs on Aiden and clipped them to the D-rings on his collar at the back of his neck. For what Stiles planned Matt was going to need his hands so he left his free.
> 
> Next, Stiles removed the cock cages they had been locked in for close to eight weeks; both cocks quickly fill, clear drips emerging from the slit.  
> “Aiden, up on the bed, lie on your back and draw your knees up to your chest,” Stiles directs him. He swiftly moves to comply, struggling slightly to manoeuvre himself on the bed without the use of his arms and hands.  
> “Okay Matt,” Stiles smirks at him, tossing him a jar of lubricant, “Time to do some prep before you fuck him.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> And for their help in rewording some of the conversations so that it better fit with my intention for the scenes.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

Come lunchtime the pack, minus Jackson and Stiles, are sitting out on the bleachers, far from anyone else.  It was not proving to be a good day for them.

 

Jackson had texted them to say he was being forced to go home because of how he was dressed.  By the end of the first period there was a text from Stiles to say he was being suspended for two days because of an incident in the Principal’s office.

 

Ethan was missing being with the babies, and was calling Derek; like he had done between every class.

 

Isaac was clinging to Scott while sucking on his paci, just wanting to slip into his little self.

“Why can’t we be home schooled?” Isaac whines around the paci, “Then we could just be ourselves and not have to worry about dress codes and what anyone else thinks of us.”

“Could we do that?” Ethan asks, “It would be so much easier than having to leave the kids all day, and surely it would help if we were there to help our alpha look after the kids.”

“We can ask Derek when we get home,” Scott says, “but what about college?  I mean most of us are almost half way through junior year and after senior year I planned on going to college.  I mean, if we’re home schooled will it affect us getting into colleges?”

 

“Will what affect you getting in to college?” Lydia asks as she, Allison, and Mason walk up to join the pack.

“Being home schooled,” Matt answers, “Which would be great as I wouldn’t have to hide my tail all the time, but Scott’s worried about getting into college if we finish the rest of junior year and all of senior year being home schooled.”

“Why the sudden desire to be home schooled?” Allison asks.

“Because we miss the kids,” Ethan says.

“And we don’t think it’s fair leaving Derek to look after them all day on his own,” Aiden tags on to his brother’s comment.

“And the Principal sent Jackson home because he ‘wasn’t dressed appropriately’ and would be a distraction in classes,” Matt adds.

“They sent Jackson home?” Lydia snaps, “Where’s Stiles?”

“They sent him home too; due to an ‘incident’ in the office after Jackson texted us he was being sent home,” Scott answers.

“What did he do?” 

“Not sure, but it is Stiles so I can guess.  Either way, he’s suspended for two days.” Before Scott finishes speaking Lydia has her phone in her hand.

 

Lydia > Stiles : What did you do?

Stiles > Lydia : When?

Lydia > Stiles : Principal’s Office.

Stiles > Lydia : I may have inferred that the school was contravening state law

Stiles > Lydia : and that the school board, principal, and pta were homophobic

Stiles > Lydia : and deliberately making the school an unsafe environment

Stiles > Lydia : for LGBTQI students and contributing to the bullying and harassment

Stiles > Lydia : they receive

Lydia > Stiles : inferred?

Stiles > Lydia : okay, outright stated and threatened to have them all charged 

Lydia > Stiles : charged with what?

Stiles > Lydia : I hadn’t thought that far… but they’re breaking the federal and state laws

Stiles > Lydia : title ix and ab 1266

Stiles > Lydia : I checked!

Stiles > Lydia : I should get the feds involved 

Lydia > Stiles : Don’t be an idiot.  I’ll think of something and update you after school.

 

“So,” Lydia grabs everyone’s attention once she has finished texting with Stiles, “I have a plan and you are all going to help.  Allison and I have some arrangements to make, we’ll explain everything later.”

She turns on her heel and strides off; a confused looking Allison following her.

 

"What are we doing?” Liam asks.  He hadn’t been paying too much attention; still lost in his own thoughts about the bomb that had been dropped on him last night when he finally talked to Deput… Jordan Parrish.  Jordan and Stiles explained to him that the dreams he was having weren’t just because of him being a horny fifteen year old, but that he and Jordan were mates, and that it was like being werewolf married.  And that Jordan being an incubus that feeds off sex meant the dreams were shared and far more realistic, which is why he woke up with a sore ass that was leaking come the other day; though even Stiles could only shrug at that revelation, simply saying, “Magic”, and imply that it was something to do with the Sithen..  Liam had thought that hiding the fact he was a fifteen year old newly bitten werewolf who had the hots for a man ten years older than him was all he was dealing with; being a married for life, because Scott had explained that werewolves mate for life, fifteen year old newly bitten werewolf hadn’t even entered his list of possibilities.  Needless to say, his mind was focused on other things..

“We’ll find out tonight,” Scott replies.

 

  
  
  


 

Stiles is hiding out in the den.

 

Jackson wants to be alone, so he’s upset and hiding in their bedroom.  Derek and Jordan are with the babies in the nursery.  So, avoiding the talk he should be having with Deputy Hot Stuff, Stiles decided the best thing he could do while suspended was hide in the den.

 

Jordan says from the doorway, “Can we talk?”  Clearly the universe doesn’t like Stiles’s decision; or maybe the den wasn’t the best place to hide out if he really wanted to avoid anyone.

“Sure,” Stiles drawls, “Don’t you think the weather is mild for the time of year?”

“Stiles?!” 

“Not what you want to talk about?”

“You know what we need to talk about, **Sir**.”

“About how thanks to me and my big mouth you’re now my half-dragon half incubus-fae and enslaved to me forever?”

“That’s not exactly how I look it.  Do you regret having claimed me as yours?”

“When I said that you were mine I didn’t think you would end up magically bound to me forever.  I thought I was buying some time for you decide if you wanted me to collar you, and I thought that you’d have the option to end it if you wanted.  Just like every member of the pack does.”

 

"They were never going to allow that; you know how much they fear Banes.  And if you hadn’t claimed me as yours I’d be back in the deep between with my dad…”

“See, you’d have been free and had a choice…”

“No, I wouldn’t have had any choices.  I have been stuck there and gone as feral as he was, probably still is, killing any fae I crossed paths with.  You remember what he said, about us needing to be leashed.”

“Yeah…”

“I might have chosen to wait until you were legal before being collared by you, but…”

“And in that year you might have found someone else that you…”

“ **No**.  I’d already submitted to you, from that first time you spanked me and ordered me not to dream-share with my mate while I was sleeping with you.”

“Why?  You already said…”

“Stiles, you got the council to back down on the ritual claiming being held publicly for them to oversee.  Instead of you spanking, flogging, and fucking me with them watching as their magic placed the collar around my neck forcing me to accept you as my Master, you got them to allow the ritual to be private between just us; and while I am bound to you without release forever, you didn’t follow their ritual, before their magic ensorcelled the metal torc around my neck you allowed me to accept you as my Master.  You got them to accept your choice of Drazin as your Counsellor. You are a powerful member of the Council of Elders, and they will try to control you.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t you see?  You are a sidhe who was born with two hands of power and fertility magic; you are also part nightflyer with the ability to heal and regenerate.  You are the Master of a werewolf pack and have the powers you gain from that.  You have a Nemeton that feeds your power, and in battle you gained two further hands of power when you killed the Morrigan’s Death with the soul eater he tried to kill you with.  You are more powerful than any sidhe in either Arcadian Court.”

 

“I don’t see how any of that means you had a choice?”

“It means I may not have had a choice about when it happened, but given what I am, and that I want to stay in this realm, there isn’t anyone else I would have found acceptable to submit to.”

 

  
  
  


 

“So, that’s the plan; just make sure you all turn up at school the day after tomorrow, and on time,” Lydia demands from the seat she had taken in the den.

“That’s the plan?” Stiles asks, “How did you convince any of the junior and senior year to go along with this?”

“And some of the freshman year have agreed too,” Mason adds, “At least those I have classes with.”

“Word of mouth, we started by asking a few out the Junior and Senior girls and they liked the idea.  It took on a life of its own from there,” Lydia says, “From what we heard there’s a sizable number have agreed to be part of the protest…”

“Not that we know how many will actually go through with it!” Stiles grumbles.

“We’ll find out in two days,” Allison replies with a shrug of her shoulders, “But it has to be worth a try.”

“Does it matter?” Jackson huffs from the chair he’s slouched in.  He changed clothes as soon as he got home, and has been lounging around in a baggy pair of sweatpants and hoodie.  Stiles hasn’t seen him look so miserable and utterly deflated in in like forever.

“Yes it matters,” Stiles protests, “You have a right to be yourself and be in school without the fear of harassment and persecution from either students or staff.  The school has no right to deny you that.”

“I know, but they said…”

“No buts,” Stiles interrupts Jackson, “You shouldn’t need to conform to what they think is appropriate clothes for a guy to wear in order to get an education.”

 

“So, everyone knows what they are doing?” Lydia asks, and the pack confirms, “Good.  See you all at school, be there sharp.”

 

  
  
  


 

Derek is stretched out naked on his back.  His arms tied to either side of the headboard, and his legs pulled up, ropes wrapped around his knees and ankles are tied to the same corners of the bed’s headboard as his wrists; leaving his ass open and available.

 

“So Sourwolf,” Stiles drawls as he rakes his fingers through Derek’s chest hair, he hasn’t called him ‘Sourwolf’ in a long while, “Right before I was kidnapped I gave strict instructions to Scott that he was to get everyone back to the Sithen; that I wanted everyone safe and this was the safest place.  I remember saying that clearly to Scott on the phone.”  Stiles pinches Derek’s left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulling lightly as he twists, “You were aware of that right?”

“Yes, Sir,” Derek hisses in reply.

“And yet you nearly get yourself killed by creepy zombie wolf of death,” Stiles growls at him, “I was stuck in that magical trap and the last thing I saw before being disapparated to the deep between was Peter about to kill you.  You risked your life trying to save me when I had said you were all to stay safely in the Sithen; so, this is the first part of your punishment.”

 

Stiles crawls up between Derek’s stretched open legs and Derek feels the slick coldness of the lubricant as Stiles’s long fingers push inside him, opening him up and going for that sweet spot that Stiles knows where to find.  Stiles deft fingers quickly hit the mark, and press and rub over Derek’s prostate making his toes curl and a needy whine escape from his throat as he tries to push back against Stiles fingers only to be held in place by the ropes tying him to the bed.

Stiles smirks down at him as his fingers scissor inside, pull back and almost leave him empty.  His other hand grips around Derek’s hard shaft and holds it firmly as he licks around the crown, and as he presses three fingers back inside Derek’s ass, his lips fasten around the head of the alpha’s cock and slide down the shaft until it hits the back of his throat.

 

“Please, Master,” Derek gasps as Stiles brings him to the edge with his fingers, lips and tongue; again and again he reaches the precipice only for Stiles to back off with a smirk as he looks down on him with lust filled eyes.

“You don’t come until I do, Sourwolf,” Stiles commands him as his fingers slide from his stretched hole, leaving Derek feeling empty.

 

Stiles places the head of his thirteen inches against the ring of muscle, lax from the teasing and play of his fingers, and pushes himself inside.  His length runs over Derek’s prostate as he fills him, only pulling back when he bottoms out.  He quickly finds his stride and the pace of his thrusts in and out of Derek’s ass speeds up until they are both gasping and hurrying to the edge of release.

“Please, Master,” Derek begs, the relentless teasing making him desperate to come.

 

Stiles pounds into the submissive alpha, chasing after his own release; his arousal fired up from the time spent playing and teasing the bound man beneath him.

“Ahh, come,” Stiles commands as he shoots his load inside, and Derek’s ass quickly grips him tight as his own release sprays between them.

 

Stiles collapses on top of Derek, their foreheads clashing, and seeks out his lips in a kiss.

“Your idea of punishment seems to have changed from the last time you punished me,” Derek quips.

“Ha,” Stiles laughs, “Well, it was the punishment I thought you deserved, this time, for disobeying me and nearly getting yourself killed trying to save me.”  He adds with a wiggle of his eyebrows, “And there is still the second part of your punishment to come; on the full moon.”

“Don’t think you can call it punishment if I’m looking forward to it, Master.”

“Probably not,” Stiles replies, “Love you, Sourwolf.”

“Love you too, Stiles.”

“Let’s get cleaned up,” Stiles says as he releases the ropes holding Derek in place, “And relax with our mates for a while, before I take care of Aiden and Matt.”

 

  
  
  


 

Both Aiden and Matt tended to be naked within the Sithen anyway, apart from their collars and the chastity cages locked around their cocks, preferring to only wear clothes when they were going out in public or there were non-pack visiting the Sithen, so neither had anything to remove when Stiles took them to one of the rooms.

 

From the moment they entered the room he could feel the anticipation rolling off Aiden, and Matt’s tail was wagging uncontrollably; clearly showing his excitement.  Stiles fastened wrist cuffs on Aiden and clipped them to the D-rings on his collar at the back of his neck.  For what Stiles planned Matt was going to need his hands so he left his free.

 

Next, Stiles removed the cock cages they had been locked in for close to eight weeks; both cocks quickly fill, clear drips emerging from the slit.

“Aiden, up on the bed, lie on your back and draw your knees up to your chest,” Stiles directs him.  He swiftly moves to comply, struggling slightly to manoeuvre himself on the bed without the use of his arms and hands.

“Okay Matt,” Stiles smirks at him, tossing him a jar of lubricant, “Time to do some prep before you fuck him.”  Matt’s mouth falls open in surprise, his tail briefly flagging as he processes what his master has said, and then his tail wagging goes into overdrive.  Aiden letting loose a needy whine full of want as his master’s words sink in.  Aiden had noticed how Matt’s scent had changed for him in the days since Ray’s death; the same undertone to his scent that he found in his brother Ethan’s, the spiced citrus notes that meant mate.

 

Stiles stands behind Matt; pressing himself flush against Matt’s back he turns Matt’s head to face him and takes his lips in a bruising kiss.

“Master,” Matt gasps out when Stiles pulls back from the kiss.

“Now, let’s get Aiden ready for your cock,” is his reply as he turns Matt’s attention back to waiting ring of muscle.

 

With two fingers coated with lube Stiles guides Matt’s hand toward the puckered ring and moves his fingers in a circular motion around the rim, and pushing forward Matt can feel the passage yield; his fingers slip inside the warm cavern.  Controlled by his master’s hand Matt’s fingers follow a steady rhythm as they thrust in and out of Aiden’s ass.

 

“Now follow my lead,” Stiles instructs Matt as he let’s go of Matt’s hand and brings his hand back to coat them in the lube before his fingers to slip through Matt’s clenching ring.  Matt bends forward, his free hand resting on the bed beside Aiden and he spreads his legs to allow Stiles easier access to his back passage.  As Stiles fingers slide in and out of him, his own fingers match Stiles pace thrusting in and out of Aiden.  Stiles fingers curl inside him and Matt feels them brush over the magic button, he howls as he thrusts back on Stiles’s fingers; his own trying to find that same sweet spot in Aiden.

“Careful Pet, don’t want you coming before you’ve got inside slave boy here,” Stiles smirks, “I think I’m in danger of getting bruised from your tail bashing me.”

“Sorry, Master,” Matt apologises.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Stiles kisses the back of his neck, his fingers never stopping their movement around Matt’s ass, “I’m just glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Ahh,” Matt gasps, raising up on his toes as he fights to hold back the threatening release of his orgasm.

“Time to move on to the main event I think,” Stiles says, removing his fingers from Matt, and pulling Matt’s fingers from Aiden’s ass.

 

“Okay Pet,” Stiles says, having lined them up so that Matt’s cock was in Aiden’s ass, and about an inch of his cock was in Matt’s, “Now you’re gonna do all the work.”

Matt starts to push back, filling his ass with more of Stiles’s length, before slamming forward into Aiden.  Aiden’s cock fills even more, the crown an angry red, and the base swelling as his knot forms.

“What?” Matt half asks, he’s seen knots form before on the werewolves, but only when they’re with their mate.

“Aiden?” Stiles says, reaching around Matt and grasping Aiden’s knot tightly in his hand.

“Mate,” Aiden can barely answer, so close to coming and exhausted from holding the position and holding back his release, “Matt’s my mate.”

Matt loses all control of the pace he was fucking into Aiden at, his hips stuttering as he comes inside him with a howl, his own ass clenching around the head of Stiles’s shaft.  Stiles squeezes his grip on Aiden’s knot and he is also quickly coming with a howl.

 

Stiles quickly cleans them up and three of them are lying on the bed, Aiden and Matt on either side of Stiles.  Aiden’s wrists are still fastened to the back of his collar.  Matt looking across Stiles at Aiden, questions clearly visible in his eyes.

“Ask him, Pet,” Stiles says to Matt as he runs his fingers through both his Pet’s and his slave’s hair.

“Am I really your mate?” Matt’s voice is tentative and unsure.

“Yes,” Aiden answers, his head ducked down against their master’s side.

“Why didn’t you say before?” hurt clear in Matt’s question, “Don’t you want me as your mate?”

“What?!  Yes!  Of course I want you as my mate.  I just… after everything with Ray being mine and Ethan’s mate and not really being our mate I wasn’t sure, and I thought with Ethan being my mate that he would also be your mate if I was right, so I wanted to ask him if your scent smelled like mate too.  He said your scent was spicy lemon for him, so you we think your his mate too, and then just now… well the Morrigan didn’t do anything to you like she did to me, Ethan, and Ray… so the fact my knot formed, it must be real,” Aiden looks up at Stiles, not trusting himself and needing his master to confirm what he hopes is true, “Isn’t it, Master?”

“Yes, it must be true; if his scent indicates Matt’s your mate, and you pop a knot when he’s fucking you then I say it’s true,” Stiles replies.

Matt and Aiden shyly smile across at each other; both feeling a level of happiness in themselves that they hadn’t hoped to feel.  Matt trying to get to grips with the fact he has two mates; he knows that his master loves him, but he has two people who love, love him; two people that mean as much to him as his Master.

“Now,” Stiles adds, “Let’s get you locked back up in the cock cages and re-join the others.”

 

“Master?” Aiden enquires as Stiles is about to lock the cock cage in place; he stops immediately and looks up at Aiden’s face.

“Give me a colour,” Stiles asks, needing to check that Aiden is still okay with the chastity device being locked on him.

“Green, Master,” the slave replies with a slightly confused look, “Can I ask about Jordan’s collar, Master?”

“Sure,” he replies locking the cage in place and beckoning to Matt so that he can fit his chastity cage in place.

“I didn’t see a hinge or lock on his collar…”

“Because there isn’t one, it’s a single smooth piece of metal that was put in place by magic and can never be removed,” Stiles interrupts with a touch of melancholy to his voice.

“Why?”

“Because the Council of Elders are just as afraid of what he is as the humans are, and they’d only allow him outside of the deep between if he was collared and bound to someone.  In the Unseelie Court I had said he was collared by me to protect him… now he’s bound to me forever.”

“Didn’t you want to collar him?”

“It’s not a matter of whether I wanted to or not, it’s that he ended up not having a choice.  I’d planned to ask him if he wanted to be ‘leashed’, as his dad put it, by me, but then at the drawing up of the Accords it was being stated that as he wasn’t collared he was going to be sent back to the deep between.  Only my mom remembered me saying to her and to the Morrigan that I had collared him, and she stated that he was mine and I just hadn’t physically put the collar around his neck.  So he was left trapped either returning to the deep between or being bound to me for eternity.  I’d thought it would be one similar to what you or Matt have; but it’s not.  He didn’t have a choice, and you know my feelings on that.  He says he’s happy with the outcome, but I’d still rather he had a way out of being bound to me if he wants leave; just as the rest of you do.”

“Master?” Aiden asks in a small voice; Stiles looks at him expectantly until he continues, “Can I have collar like Jordan’s?”

“Me too?” Matt excitedly asks beside him.

 

“How about you think on it, I’ll think on it,” Stiles adds quickly cutting off Aiden’s impending objection, “And you can ask me again in a week.”

“Yes, Master,” both reply a little sullenly.

“In the meantime, talk to Parrish about what the collar he has means and whether he’d have chosen to wear it if there had been any other choice open to him.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Now, let’s get back to everyone else.”

 

  
  
  


 

It’s been two days since Jackson and Stiles were sent home, and the pack, without Stiles, drive to school in the Jeep and the Impala.  Their nerves are frayed, worrying over whether any of the other students will back Lydia’s plan or if they are going to be the only ones.

 

“This is stupid,” Jackson bitches from the passenger seat of the Jeep.  He’s dressed almost exactly as he was the previous day, only his stockings, bra, and panties are now baby blue in colour, and his blouse and garter belt are royal blue.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Danny says from the driver’s seat, reaching over and placing a hand comfortingly on Jackson’s knee.

“Yeah, everything will be fine,” Scott says nervously from the back seat where he’s sitting with Isaac and Liam, “A lot of people I don’t even know were really supportive yesterday.”

“And you sound so sure of that, not,” Jackson snorts turning to Scott, “Just how stupid are you gonna feel when nobody else follows through with Lydia’s idea.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Scott growls at him, “We’re not doing this because other people said they would, we’re doing this because we’re your pack and we love you and want to support you.”

“I know, I’m just nervous,” Jackson says sheepishly, ducking his head down as he turns back around in his seat.

“Yeah, I get that, we’re all feeling a little nervous,” Scott smiles at him in via the rear-view mirror.

 

Danny pulls the jeep into the school’s parking lot; the impala behind him and they park side by side.

“Ready?” Danny asks.

“Not really,” Liam answers.  Everyone’s nervousness is fuelling each other’s anxiety.

“I said nobody had to follow this stupid plan,” Jackson snaps, “Seriously, how is Lydia gonna get enough of the students to swap clothes?  The girls can get away with wearing pants and shirt, but the guys aren’t gonna go for wearing a skirt!”

“We have!” Scott answers, “And she doesn’t need to get half of them, just enough to get the Principal to back down and abide by the law.”

“And I might not feel comfortable or confident wearing this skirt, but I’m still doing it ‘cause I think you should be allowed to, and if I’m doing it there are bound to be others too; not just our pack,” Liam adds.

They’re interrupted by a rap on the window.  Waiting on them is Lydia and Allison, looking like nineteen-thirty’s gangsters in the three-piece suits they’re wearing; and Aiden, Ethan, Matt, and Mason in skirts.  While Mason is in heels, pantyhose and a mini-dress; the pack members are dressed pretty much as they normally would, except for the skirts they’re wearing instead of pants.  Danny, Scott, Liam and Isaac are similarly dressed as they get out of the jeep.

 

“You’re not gonna believe it!” Mason excitedly shouts, “At least half the school has cross-dressed.”  Then taking in how everyone except Jackson is dressed he adds, “I would have thought you’d have made more of an effort!”

“The point of this is to be allowed to dress how you want,” Liam snappily replies.

“And most of the guys that have shown their support are dressed like they have,” Allison adds.

“Some of them have only put a skirt over their pants, though I suppose we should at least be give them some credit for risking their manliness even that much,” Lydia quips, “And I’m being sarcastic in case you couldn’t tell.  But it doesn’t matter, with the press calls that were made to the school yesterday…”

“What?!  Why were the press calling…” Jackson shouts at her.

“Because I called some of the LGBTQI press, and also the California Department of Education Office of Equal Opportunity, and stated how the school was in violation of the state law prohibiting discrimination based on gender, gender expression, gender identity, and sexual orientation.”

“But why would you do that and draw attention to the pack, especially now when people are already worrying about the supernatural, if they find out about us…” Jackson continues.

“They aren’t going to be focusing on you as a werewolf, they are going to be focusing on you as a gender non-conforming male in a same-sex relationship being denied access to education by the school,” Lydia snaps at him, “Now follow my lead and look fabulous.”

 

The only problem was Lydia was wrong.

 

She hadn’t considered that when the news story was be picked up by other papers they would contact Jackson’s parents; and they had an axe to grind after the incident at their house.  The Whittemores turned the full glare of the supernatural spotlight on Jackson and the pack.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-24
> 
>   
>  A few days after the school’s climb down, Mr Whittemore’s comments were splashed across the front pages of less friendly papers; and reported on FOX News.  
> “We don’t care about his cross-dressing, but the fact that he’s a dangerous werewolf and I was forced to shoot at him and the creature that is the father of his children when they attacked me; and they had other werewolves smash up our home, the fact they are in our schools with normal children that concerns me. Creatures like him and his ’pack’ shouldn’t be allowed near normal people.”  
>   
> One of the FOX News reporters had talked to some of the other students. Sean Walcott was more than happy to talk to them.  
> “Yeah, I always knew there was something unnatural about the way McCall, Whittemore, and Lahey hung around Stilinski, now we know why; they must all be freaks, and probably the rest of them that joined their little gang too. Māhealani, Daehler, and Stilinski’s ‘slave’ and his twin; they’ve even got that freshman kid, Liam Dunbar, and his friend hanging around with them these days. Who knows what they’re doing to them.”  
> “What kind of creatures are they?” the reporter asked.  
> “I don’t know,” Sean replied, “But if Whittemore’s dad says Jackson’s some sort of he-she werewolf, I guess they must all be Stilinski’s bitches.”  
>   
> 
> 
> +----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+---+---+----+----+----+
> 
>   
> “ **Freaks!** ” Sean called out, “So do you all call him Master and get lead around like the bitches you are?”  
> Liam turned and was about to run over to him and punch his face, but Scott held him back.  
> “Shut your stupid mouth!” Allison snarled at him as she punched him squarely on the nose, his head banging against the locker door and blood streaming down his face.  
> “ **Bitch!** ” he screams at her, raising his hand to strike her. She easily blocks his intended punch and raises her knee to slam directly into his groin. He doubles over in agony from the crushing blow to his balls.  
> “And just remember Sean,” Allison smirks lifting his head up by his hair to look him in the eye, “I’m just a normal human female, it doesn’t take anyone supernatural to put you on your knees where you belong; mouthing off to reporters about stuff you don’t even know shows a complete lack of brains.”
> 
> Allison was suspended for a week.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> And for their help in rewording some of the scenes so that my intention for the scenes were more effectively met.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

Lydia’s plan worked; at least there was no initial fall out.

 

The day after the student protest, and the press reporting of it, the school backed down and Jackson was allowed to attend the school dressed in whatever clothes he wanted; as long as they met the school dress code.

 

What no one had anticipated was it becoming a news story, leading the reporters to contact the Whittemores to ask what they thought of their estranged son and his attending school wearing female clothing.  A few days after the school backpedals on Jackson’s clothing, Mr Whittemore’s comments were making headlines on the front pages of less than friendly papers; as well as being reported on by FOX News.

“We don’t care about his cross-dressing, but the fact is that he’s a dangerous werewolf capable of extreme violence.  We had no choice but to throw our son out after I was forced to shoot at him and whatever creature is the father of at least two of his four children when they attacked me; and they had other werewolves smash up our home, the fact they are in our schools with normal children that concerns me.  These are creature capable of causing immense levels of harm and monsters like him and his ’pack’ shouldn’t be allowed near normal people.”

 

One of the FOX News reporters had talked to some of the other students.  Sean Walcott was more than happy to talk to them.

“Yeah, I always knew there was something unnatural about the way McCall, Whittemore, and Lahey hung around Stilinski, he’s has been collecting students for ages now.  One day they’re normal kids and the next they’re hanging on his every word; now we know why.  They must all be freaks, and probably the rest of them that joined their little gang too.  Māhealani, Daehler, and Stilinski’s ‘slave’ and his twin; it’s scary to think it could be anyone, they’ve even got this freshman kid, Liam Dunbar, and his friend hanging around with them these days.  Who knows what they’re doing to them.”

“What kind of creatures are they?” the reporter asked.

“I don’t know,” Sean replied, “But if Whittemore’s dad says Jackson’s some sort of he-she werewolf, I guess they must all be Stilinski’s bitches.”

The reporter when closing their segment, did concede that there was no way to confirm any of Mr Whittemore’s or Sean’s claims; before adding, "However, on following up on Sean Walcott's claims I found it unsettling to discover that all of those he cited as being taken by 'Stiles' Stilinski into his 'gang' no longer lived with their families, but were moved into some sort of commune in the woods, a commune that my team of researchers has not been able to find."

 

The school’s students were clearly split the next day when the pack decided to brave out the public attention and attend school anyway.  There were those that seemed to be confusing them with Team Jacob and the Twilight werewolves, but they were at least supportive; and then there were those, like Sean, who were supporters of the Human’s First movement that had been springing up around the world since the supernatural world had made itself known.

 

The pack strode into school past a small group of HF protesters being kept at bay by some of the deputies that Stiles had known for years.  Walking to their lockers Sean and some of his friends sneered.

“ ** _Freaks!_** ” Sean called out, “So do you all call him Master and get lead around like the bitches you are?”

Liam turned and was about to run over to him and punch his face, but Scott held him back.

“ **Shut your stupid mouth!** ” Allison snarled at him as she punched him squarely on the nose, his head banging against the locker door and blood streaming down his face.

“Bitch!” he screams at her, raising his hand to strike her.  She easily blocks his intended punch and raises her knee to slam directly into his groin.  He doubles over in agony from the crushing blow to his balls.

“And just remember Sean,” Allison smirks lifting his head up by his hair to look him in the eye, “I’m just a normal human female, it doesn’t take anyone supernatural to put you on your knees where you belong; mouthing off to reporters about stuff you don’t even know shows a complete lack of brains.”

 

Allison was suspended for a week.

 

The Principal organised a meeting with the rest of the pack and their parents or guardians to discuss the situation and decide the best course of action.

 

  
  
  


 

The Principal’s office was crowded.

 

Stiles had asked the pack what they wanted to do.  The unanimous decision was to be honest about… well _almost_ … everything.  So, everyone was squeezed into the office.

 

Stiles, Jackson, Ethan, Aiden, and Stiles’s dad.

Scott, Isaac, Derek, and Scott’s mom.

Liam and his parents; who look somewhat nervous of everyone else, but they are both still sitting supportively beside Liam with a hand on his shoulder or arm.  Stiles suspects that they also want to hear more about the details of the pack from someone other than the FBI.

Danny and his parents; whom it turned out knew about the supernatural before the big reveal, which maybe shouldn’t have been a surprise given their name means ‘night of the full moon’.  Danny it turned out had told them he intended to ask for the bite before he received it from Derek; his parents had been okay with that, and they were sure he’d survive.

Matt had been emancipated from his parents.  It had been easy to prove that he was not living at home and that his parents were not actively trying to get him to move back home; his mom hadn’t even noticed the letter about the court date for the hearing.  Also, thanks to Derek investing his money for him, Matt had been able to show that he had enough income to support himself, and that he was still attending school.

 

Lydia is there with her mom, and Allison is there with her dad.

Boyd, Erica, and Cora are there too; despite not being part of the Stilinski-McCall-Hale pack they wanted to support them.

 

“Well, this is… um… well,” the Principal begins.

“Look, let’s cut to the chase,” Stiles cuts in when the Principal clearly has no idea where to start, “I’m sidhe, and that’s S-I-D-H-E, as in fae, and I’m not the only non-human student at this school.”

By the end of the meeting the Principal has been truly educated in who is human, fae, werewolf, and changeling; and in the difference between biological sex, gender identity, and gender expression.  He’s also aware of werewolves having mates; and that biologically Scott, Jackson, Isaac, and Ethan are intersex, they have a heat twice a year, can get pregnant, and have already had children.

 

He’s also left in no doubt that he has no grounds to stop them attending the school.  Scott, Jackson, Isaac, and Danny have been werewolves since their freshman or sophomore year.  Stiles fae nature manifested during their sophomore year, and Matt became Stiles’s changeling then too.  They have all been attending the school without their supernatural status causing any educational issues.  The fact that Aiden, Ethan, Boyd, Erica, and Cora enrolled at the school during the start of this school year, and now Liam is also a werewolf, none of that has had an impact on the academic studies of any student.

 

There is also the fact that Danny, Scott, Jackson, Isaac, Stiles, Liam, and Aiden are all on the lacrosse team.  A winning team that could be state champions this year; and that’s without them using their werewolf abilities.  The Principal doesn’t want to jeopardise the school’s morale by losing seven of the ten players from the team; there aren’t enough on the bench to replace them all.

 

The Principal does still raise the fact he has concerns about the packs safety, given the presence of the Human’s First demonstrations that have been occurring, but agrees that the best solution is to ‘keep an eye’ on the situation.

 

“Does this mean I don’t have to hide my tail anymore?” Matt asks hopefully.

“Tail?” the Principal repeats, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.

After a ‘brief’ explanation and statement on how uncomfortable it was for him to tape his tail down, and how it pulled at his fur… the Principal cut him off with the decision that if Matt felt it wouldn’t cause him any issues with the other students then he didn’t need to hide his tail.  Matt left the meeting very happy, and wished his tail wasn’t taped down his leg as it frantically tried to wag.

 

  
  
  


 

“Is there a reason you haven’t mentioned this family vault before now?” Stiles asks Derek as he looks around the cavernous crypt under the high school.

“There wasn’t anything I wanted from it, Master,” Derek replies sheepishly.

“Derek, there are millions in bearer bonds here!” 

“Over a hundred million I think, but those are Peter’s.”

“ **Peter?!**   Peter who killed Laura, tried to kill you, tried to take Scott from you, tried to send me to the Morrigan knowing that she was going to kill me to take my powers, and then tried to kill you again to take Scott from you,” Stiles states exasperatedly, “And who is still officially dead; having actually been declared dead and all.”

“Yes; that Peter,” Derek tries not to snipe, having bitten his tongue to stop from saying ‘No, Peter Rabbit’; it’s not like he would have been referring to anyone other than his uncle, “But the bearer bonds are not what I brought you here to show you.”

“Then what is?”

“These,” Derek replies, pulling out a file box from one of the shelves of dust covered file boxes.

 

Stiles is looking at the documents from the box in a state of shock.  He’s trying to get his head around the implications.

“So, most of the land that Beacon Hills is built on is owned by you,” Stiles states with a degree of uncertainty.

“The Hale Pack,” Derek corrects, “The properties are leasehold, not freehold, and that is true for the local, state, and government buildings too.  The land was leased for ninety nine years each time the alpha renegotiated the agreement, most of them have less than fifteen years to run, and all of the leases expire within twenty-five.  We own over two thirds of the land that Beacon Hills is built on.”

“So…”

“Your, and your Sithen’s power will extend over that land; not just the preserve.  If the Accords are enacted and if we are granted Council Sovereignty then it should be over all this land, not just the preserve,” Derek confirms.

“Goddess give me strength,” Stiles runs his hand over his face, “Okay, we need to get most of this stuff back to the Sithen for safe keeping.”  Stiles looks at the alpha as it sinks in, “ **Goddess, Derek, you own the fucking town!** ”

“No, Master, **we** own the fucking town.”

“Okay, so, we don’t tell the pack about this yet, we keep this between us until the Accords are enacted.  Then we ask for all of the Hale lands to be given Sovereignty; light the blue touch paper and stand well back,” Stiles says, his voice full of the enormity of what this could mean; both for his pack and the town.

 

  
  
  


 

“Wanna talk about what’s worrying you?” Stiles asks Jackson.  He knows that Jackson’s been on edge and he knew it was more than just the approaching full moon that was affecting the whole pack; it has been building since the protest at school.

“I can go back today,” his mate replies, “And it’s gonna be the first day that I go to school since the protests, and the press and news channels spreading the Whittemores lies about them being attacked,” Jackson refuses to think of them as his parents, “Now the whole school, and the whole country, know I’m a werewolf, an omega – or intersex, as everyone is now calling it – and that I’ve given birth.  The whole pack has been outed, and some people will have worked out that there was no Jackie; they’ll know that it was you using your magic to create a glamour, and that Jackie was really me.”

“Yeah, they will know about the pack, we all decided…”

“I know, but what choice did we have; Whittemore took that choice from me and you, and then Sean threw the rest of the pack under the bus with us,” Jackson shouts, “Why can’t we be left alone to get on with our lives and raise our kids, and just be ourselves?”

“They did make it difficult for us, and some people will realise that you were Jackie, but it doesn’t matter.  All that’s important is that no matter what else is going on me, Danny, our pack, we all love and support you.”

“I know the pack has my back, and I love all of you too, I just… none of you would have to be dealing with this if I hadn’t wanted to…”

“Jackson, this is not your fault,” Stiles intercedes, “You got that?”

“You say that, but if I had dressed like I always did at school instead of in the clothes I wear at home there wouldn’t have been the reporters and…”

“It still doesn’t make it your fault, you should be able to wear what you want.  The fact other people have a problem with it is their problem, not yours.  Now come on, let’s get dressed for school.”

 

He’s not sure what to expect once they get to school, but as he finishes dressing, buckling the dark tan belt around his Michael Kors blue pleated shirtdress – which he knows looks great together with the Jimmy Choo Hutch Suede Triple-Buckle Boot – he promises himself that he will not let his pack down; he will deal with whatever happens.

 

  
  
  


 

The day at school starts off without much of any issues surfacing; certainly with regard to what he’s wearing.  Jackson has even seen a couple of other guys wearing a skirt, albeit over the top of a pair of pants in one case, and in both cases everything else they were wearing was accepted male gender clothing.  The only negative comment he heard was a whispered, “Bitch, wish I could afford a pair of six hundred dollar Jimmy Choo’s”, from some girl, a senior he thinks, whom he doesn’t know; he can’t help the satisfied smirk on his face from the clear envy in her voice.

 

The one hiccup at the start of the day is when someone sidles up to Matt and asks if they can stroke his tail.  Aiden nearly bites their arm off as he snarls at them to keep their hands off his mate, pulling Matt into a very public make-out session letting everyone – who wasn’t pack – know they shouldn’t touch.

“Aiden, a little, and by a little I mean a lot, less hostility,” Stiles sternly admonishes him, “And remind me to punish you for scaring the human when we get home.  We don’t need people thinking we’re dangerous monsters; there’s enough dangerous monsters around already with the Human’s First contingent at the gates.”

“Yes, Master; sorry, Master,” Aiden says with a degree of apprehension.

“Good, just try and be a little more like your brother, Ethan didn’t nearly rip someone’s arm off for talking to Matt,” Stiles says.

“I just thought it,” Ethan unhelpfully adds.

 

The only prickling doubt that Jackson feels throughout the day is from the angry stares from Sean and his friends.  But nothing comes of it.  Even in the locker room, when they are getting changed for the lacrosse game with Devonport, Sean and his group are quiet and ignore Jackson and the pack.  The team know that the only reason their opponents aren’t making something out of the fact that Beacon Hills have werewolves on the team is because they have players that are werewolves themselves; including their captain Brett Talbot.

 

Devonport has a four point lead, mostly because every time Sean or one of his sidekicks has the ball and Jackson is clear they don’t pass to him.  Everyone can hear Coach screaming at Sean to pass the ball to Jackson, but Sean ignores him and Devonport get the ball; their lead is only being restricted because of Aiden and Danny defending the Beacon Hills goal.

Coach eventually bench’s Sean, there are only twenty minutes left in the game and Beacon Hills needs two goals to tie and three to win; Coach substitutes Liam for Sean.

Liam catches the ball and passes to Jackson who’s in the clear, the Devonport team aren’t even covering him anymore; Jackson runs for the Devonport goal, getting close enough to shoot and score.

Scott can’t get near the ball because Brett keeps blocking him, Liam is being blocked by the other Devonport werewolf.  Devonport shoot for the Beacon Hills goal, but Aiden catches it and passes it up to Jackson.  Jackson swivels past the Devonport defence and shoots for the goal, scoring again.  The Beacon Hills supporters cheer as Jackson’s shot brings them level.

There are seconds left on the clock, Devonport are on the defensive, Jackson has the ball again.  Brett is gunning after him, and is brought down by Scott.  Liam is slammed to the ground by the other Devonport wolf who barrels towards Jackson.  Jackson swerves around him, and shoots at the open goal.  Beacon Hills pull ahead, as the whistle blows, winning the game.

 

The Beacon Hills supporters cheer, howling as if they were the werewolves and not their teams MVP.

 

  
  
  


 

“Shit, I left my watch in the locker-room,” Jackson calls to Stiles as he turns and runs back towards the main doors of the school.

“We can get it tomorrow,” Stiles calls after him.

“I’ll be just be a minute,” he calls over his shoulder running into the school, the three and a half inch heel of his ankle boots clacking against the floor as he runs.

As he makes his way through the emptying school he’s greeted with calls of ‘nice game’, ‘good one’, and ‘great shot’ from the fellow students; the praise making him feel appreciated.

 

The locker room is empty as he fetches his watch and heads back out into the corridor; his wolf suddenly on alert at the scent of anger coming from the sole person standing between him and the exit to his mates.  Sean.

 

“It should have been me they were praising,” Sean seethes at him, “Not some freaking monster in flouncing around in women’s clothes; fucking queer pervert!”

“It would never be you,” Jackson smirks at him, “You’re not that good a player.”

 

Jackson moves to step around Sean, but the other boy moves to block him.

“Move out of my way,” Jackson flatly states.

“Make me.”

“No need,” Jackson sasses as he quickly steps to the side and swerves around the antagonistic bully.

 

Sean’s fingers grip tightly around Jackson’s wrist and pull him of balance, making him stumble and Sean uses the opportunity to push him up against the wall.

“What gives you the right to flaunt your sickness in front of everyone like its normal?” Sean spits at him angrily, “Eh?!  Why should you be allowed to show up dressed like this,” the look of disgust on his face as he gestures at Jackson’s clothes, “And then have others look up to you for getting lucky and scoring during the game?!  Making them think it’s okay to be like you, you sick fucking pervert.  Let’s see them look up to you after this…”

 

Sean pulls his arm back and throws a punch at Jackson’s face.  Jackson blocks his hand mid throw and pushes him back.  Sean rushes at him and Jackson catches him and flips him on to the floor.  

“Don’t be a tool,” he says standing over his prone attacker.  Sean kicks his leg up trying to unbalance Jackson, but he merely catches him around the ankle.  Sean angrily stares up at him, “Stop looking up my dress you perv, or is that why Harper always seems so… unsatisfied?”  Sean tries to lash out at Jackson with his fist, but Jackson catches Sean’s wrist with his free hand, “You really are as dumb as you look; did you forget about the cameras?  They are what caught you out when you attacked Aiden.”

Sean’s gaze flicks to the ceiling where the camera is clearly trained on them.

 

“Alright break it up!” the Coach’s voice bellows as he comes rushing out from his office, “Principal’s office NOW!”

 

  
  
  


 

Jackson settles back on the bed, surrounded in the warmth of his pack and a self-satisfied smile on his face.  Sean is expelled from school for his attack; his second homophobic attack in as many months.  Though as the school recorded it Sean had ‘engaged in an act of bullying…directed specifically toward a pupil’, ‘other means of correction…have repeatedly failed’, and ‘the presence of the pupil causes a continuing danger to the physical safety of the pupil or others’.

 

“Proud of you for not losing it and wolfing out on him,” Stiles says as he leans over and kisses Jackson’s lips, again.

“As tempting as that thought was I remembered there were cameras in that corridor,” Jackson smiles back at him.

“Devious,” Stiles smiles back, taking another kiss.

“I thought so,” Jackson smirks.

 

  
  
  


 

“Hanscum,” she answers, placing the phone to her ear.

“Agent Hanscum?” the voice on the other end of the phone asks.

“That’s what I just said ain’t it,” she rolls her eyes even though the other person can’t see her.

“This is Doctor Conrad Fenris, at Eichen House, I’m afraid there has been an escape from the…”

“There’s only one floor there that you would be calling me about an escape from,” Hanscum interrupts him, “Who and when?”

“Somewhere between midnight and six thirty this morning,” the doctor replies, “It was Peter Hale, but he’s not alone.  Agent McCall was being held for his psychological evaluation on one of the other floors...”

“Yeah, I know that...”

“He is also missing.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-25
> 
>   
>  It’s not easy running with your hands cuffed to the back of a collar locked around your neck, your cock hard and bobbing in front of you, and a barbed vibrating ball in your ass. The smooth rounded barbs of the ball are hitting Derek’s insides in all the right places, and the vibrations against his prostate have kept his cock hard and drooling as he scrambles through the preserve, praising his Master’s devious ingenuity for coming up with this idea.  
>   
> They both know that the pack will be able to track the scent of his arousal through the preserve, and they both know that Stiles isn’t really punishing Derek. Stiles never uses sex as a punishment. This is about meeting their wolves’ needs during the full moon. The hunt, the camaraderie of pack, and sex.  
>   
> There’s a howl from behind and upwind of him, he sniffs the air and can tell it’s Aiden; he’s answered from a few of the pack, all behind him. So Derek is surprised when he’s suddenly tackled to the ground, the ball jostling inside him, as someone rushes him from downwind. The attacker gets him on his knees, the ball settling back against his prostate, and Derek finds himself looking into Scott’s alpha red eyes and grinning face.  
> Scott grabs Derek’s head and pulls him into a lust filled kiss.  
> “Goddess, I want you to knot me and fuck me into the ground,” Scott whines as he pulls back from the kiss.  
> “Tomorrow,” Derek growls in promise, “But for now you know our Master’s instructions.” Scott licks along Derek’s jawline before standing in front of his mate, his own cock standing flat against his abs. He pulls it down so that it pointing straight at Derek’s mouth and he envelops it in his lips, sucking it down to the root.  
> 
> 
>   
> ««««««««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»  
> 
> 
>   
> “Okay, here’s what I plan for tonight,” Stiles starts, “We’re all going to get naked, and then Liam is going to kneel on the bench here, and lean down on it. Then you and I,” he says turning to Jordan, “Are going to take turns spanking him, tonight we’ll just use our hands and not any of the paddles or floggers that Scott likes so much. Once we’ve got his ass nice and hot and red and very sore, you’re going to open up his virgin hole with your tongue and fingers; get him all nice and loose and wet. Then you’re going to fuck him while I fuck you.” Stiles pauses to let them think about what he’s said. He can see the anticipation and desire on Liam’s face. “What colour for you Liam?”  
> “Green, Master, very green,” he eagerly answers.  
> “Jordan?” 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> And for their help in rewording some of the scenes so that my intention for the scenes were more effectively met.  
>   
> 
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 
> 
>   
> 

Jackson licked around the swollen base of Danny’s cock, the slightly rougher feel of his knot scraping against his tongue before he continued up the shaft and took the smooth head between his lips and swallowed down the length.

Danny hummed around Jackson’s little hard cock and balls filling his mouth as he ran his tongue over the smooth flesh, he loved that Jackson’s were so small he could fit all of him into his mouth; the cock leaking with every thrust of the their master’s hard length into Jackson’s wetness and slide over his stimulated bud.

 

“Goddess, you’re so tight and hot,” Stiles gasped as his mate’s ass gripped his length as he pulled back to thrust into him again.

Jackson spread his stocking covered legs further apart as his body shook with the need his mates had built, the feel of Stiles’s hands holding his hips, pulling the suspender belt holding up his stockings, the fullness of Stiles fucking him, the feel of Danny’s mouth on him, and the taste of Danny filling his mouth.  The room was filled with their scent, their sex, their desire and love for each other; and fuelled Jackson’s need to be with them.

 

Stiles pulled out of Jackson’s ass and sprayed his release over Jackson’s back.  Jackson, keened at the feeling of emptiness, and the vibrations around Danny’s cock and the scent of their master’s come sent Danny over the edge, filling Jackson’s mouth as Jackson gripped him tightly around his knot.  The taste of Danny filling his mouth and the heat and scent of Stiles across his back was enough additional stimulation for Jackson to flood Danny’s mouth with his watery release.  The mates collapsed in a tangled pile on the bed.

 

Stiles pulls them into a more comfortable position in the centre of the bed.  Jackson on one side of him and Danny on the other.

“Wish you’d come inside me,” Jackson yawns against Stiles’s neck.

“Yeah, but until we figure out some effect birth control for you, Scott, Isaac, and Ethan, we got to be careful,” Stiles replies, kissing his forehead, “Deaton will come up with something.  Hopefully, before Scott’s heat starts.”

 

  
  
  


 

Scott is kneeling on the bed, his hands tied behind his back and his favourite weighted nipple clamps are swinging from his chest as he sucks on Isaac’s cock and balls.

 

Scott moans around sweetness of Isaac’s flesh in his mouth as Isaac suckles at the head of his cock, Isaac’s hands holding on to his thighs as Derek’s hand blisters Scott’s ass.

**SMACK** , **SMACK** , **SMACK** , **SMACK** , **SMACK** , **SMACK** ; Derek alternates which ass cheek his palm lands on, with each slap of the spanking landing the clamps pull and tug at Scott’s nipples as they jerk with the motion.

 

“Gonna turn your ass crimson to match your eyes,” Derek growls low with lust, “Your ass is still gonna be red and sore after the full moon tomorrow, and I’ll think about you sitting tenderly on your seat in class; knowing the sting you feel from it reminds you of this, of me.”

Isaac floods Scott’s mouth with his come, and the taste and the spanking nearly send Scott over the edge as Isaac’s lips seal around the head of his cock.

“Na-ah, no coming until I fuck you,” Derek warns him, “Issy can come as much as he likes, but you only come when my cock is in you.”  Scott moans around Isaac’s cock and balls still in his mouth as he laps the watery come from the little cock-let.  Derek licks from Scott’s pernium to his tail bone, his tongue delving into the ring of muscle and savouring the sweet slick leaking from Scott’s ass. “But remember, our Master has forbidden anyone coming in you, or knotting you until Deaton has delivered an effective contraceptive that won’t affect your milk.  Just as with Jackson.”

Scott’s moan this time is not one of need and desire, but resigned frustration.  He wants Derek’s knot, he wants to feel it stretch him open as it pushes into him, to feel the burn of it, and then the incessant tugging of it against his ring of muscle as they are tied together.  But neither of them will disobey Stiles.

 

**SMACK** , **SMACK** , **SMACK** , **SMACK** , **SMACK** , **SMACK** , Derek’s hand come down hard on his ass making him gasp in shocked delight at the painful pleasure of the heat radiating from his reddened ass, and the tugging of the clamps biting into his nipples.  He moans wantonly around Isaac’s flesh and sucks hard on the cock and balls in his mouth as Derek slides the length of his shaft into him, down to his knot.  On instinct he tries to push back and take the knot into himself, only Derek’s hands grasping his hips and holding him still with a warning growl stop him.

 

Derek is fucking into him, his knot pushing against the ring of muscle with each thrust, and from the moment Derek’s cock entered him Isaac’s suckling at his cockhead renewed with increased vigour.  Scott moans around Isaac’s cock-let and balls in his mouth, teasing the sensitive head with his tongue.  It makes Isaac’s hips rise from the bed as he shudders through another orgasm.  The sweet tanginess exploding in Scott’s mouth, and with the added stimulus of Derek’s cock brushing over his prostate Scott is soon shooting into Isaac’s mouth as Derek pulls out of his ass and shoots his load over Scott’s back.

 

After a quick clean up, the three of them are curled up together in the centre of the bed.

“My heat is gonna be a few days after the full moon,” Scott says, “If Deaton hasn’t…”

“It’s okay,” Derek silences his words with a kiss, “We’ll deal with whatever happens.”

“Even if I get pregnant again?” Scott’s worry clear in voice, “I love our kids, all seventeen of them, but we’re struggling to cope.  Things might be a little easier now with Liam and Jordan around to help, but with school and…”

“Scott, there’s no need to worry.  More kids will be a struggle, and if Deaton finds something that you and Jackson can use great.  If not the pack will cope.”

 

  
  
  


 

Matt is lying back with his ass at the edge of the bed.  His tail is wagging insistently as he buries his tongue deep inside Ethan’s wet asshole and laps at the slick flowing from him.  He knows that Ethan is making out with Aiden who is currently balls deep inside Matt’s ass; well, the strap-on that Aiden is wearing, over the cock cage that his actual cock is still locked in, is buried deep in Matt’s ass.  Matt’s own cock is also still locked inside his boy trainer cage, as a steady flow of pre-come is being pumped out of him with every thrust of Aiden’s hips driving the rubber phallus in and out of his hole.

 

Ethan squirms back on Matt’s tongue before lifting himself up and pushing his hips back for Matt to take his small omega sized cock and balls into his mouth.  Sucking the hard little nub and balls into his mouth, Matt slips two fingers into Ethan’s ass, and rubbing circles over his prostate his mouth is soon filled as Ethan gasps his release around Aiden’s tongue.

 

Soon, Ethan is lying between Aiden and Matt as they relax on the bed.  Aiden and Matt still in need of release while Ethan languidly kisses both of his mates.

“You both know that Master is letting you out of chastity cages tomorrow during the full moon, so relax,” Ethan tells them.

“Yeah, but there are conditions to being allowed to come,” Matt says, “What if I’m not allowed to fuck Matt for real, I want to knot…”

“I know brother, you want to knot our mate and claim him thoroughly,” Ethan says; making Matt’s tail thump happily against the bed at the thought, “And I’m sure you’ll get the chance, and that Matt will get the chance to fuck both of us too.”

“He’s already fucked me,” Aiden smirks at his brother, “When Master played with us…”

“And he fucked me while I was fucking Aiden,” Matt adds.

“Now you’re just making me doubly jealous,” Ethan pouts turning to face Matt, “You should give me more kisses to make me feel better.”

Matt’s tail beats rapidly against the bed as he leans in to Ethan and happily kisses his mate.

 

  
  
  


 

Jordan is sitting in the nursery feeding Caden, the last of the babies to be settled down of for the night.  Helping Derek look after the kids while the pack are at school has gotten him used to their routine.  He’s still not allowed back at work, technically he’s on enforced R&R to recover from the time spent on the other side of the hedge; but he knows that the various bodies are trying to decide if they can allow a bane, even a collared one, to serve on the force.  A part of him hopes that they decide to allow him back at work soon, while on the other hand he’ll miss helping look after the kids if they do.

 

He can’t help but notice that Liam is hovering in the hallway, looking just as nervous as he was the day he got back with Stiles’s collar around his neck and informed the boy that they were mates.  He had planned to wait, but Stiles insisted and he couldn’t exactly argue with him when he pointed out that with Liam being a werewolf now he was going to pick up on the scent and eventually ask Scott or someone what it means.

 

“I thought Matt was my mate too,” Liam’s words catch Jordan by surprise.

“Matt?”

“I was smelling the same spicy citrus scent around the pack that I get with you,” Liam says still not looking at him, “But it was stronger with Matt.  Scott says Derek and Isaac smell like that for him, and that when you pick it out among the other combinations of someone’s scent it’s how you know the attraction and love is mutual.  But, when it’s strong, really strong, that’s when you know they are your mate.  And the spicy lemony scent I was picking up, what I thought, was strong from Matt.  Then you arrived with Stiles, and it was like ten times what I was getting from Matt, and at first nearly drowning out your other scents.”

“What else do I smell like to you?” he asks.

“Hot,” Liam blushes as he realises how that could be taken, not that he’d disagree, and quickly adds, “I mean like heat, sort of like a hot coal fire.

“And how does Matt smell to you?” Jordan asks as he puts Caden in the cot beside Anthony.

“Like apple cider and the spicy citrus,” Liam answers, “In your scent it makes me think of Christmas, nutmeg, cinnamon, and orange.”

 

“This is the most we’ve talked since I…” 

“I know,” Liam interrupts him, “I just… what am I supposed to do… I mean to have a mate, in werewolf terms it’s being married; for life.  I mean, what if one day you wake up and realise you don’t even like me?  I’m still getting used to being a werewolf, I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about all this.  I haven’t had my first full moon, and already I’ve got a mate.  A few weeks ago I was just really interested in having  sex with you, a lot, and even that was mostly fantasy, and now we’re married and I’m still a virgin… why am I still a virgin by the way, the rest of the pack is having sex right now, why aren’t we?”

Jordan is taken aback at the detour in the conversation, from Liam’s worries about being together for life to worrying about why they’re not having sex; before he’d had the opportunity to explain that Liam is also his mate, and for dragons there is only ever one.  Though the combination of his incubus and fire dragon heritage complicates things somewhat.

“I’m a deputy in the sheriff’s department and you’re only fifteen…” he starts to explain.

“Most of the pack are only two years older than me,” Liam counters, “And you had sex with Stiles!” 

“Most of the pack are about the same age, and you have to understand two years is a big difference at fifteen, and I’m ten years older than you; that’s two thirds of your life so far,” Jordan answers, ignoring the comment about having sex with Stiles.

“So why is it okay for you to have sex with Stiles?” Liam doesn’t ignore it.

“It’s different,” he starts, but Liam’s unimpressed expression makes it clear he’s going to have to explain it better than that.  “The shared dreams we had,” Jordan started, looking to Liam to check he was following, “My incubus side had been feeding off the sexual release from those, but I hadn’t had one for a while and so I was kinda rundown and so… Stiles is a lot more mature for his age, and pretty forceful, which led to he and I… that’s why.”

 

Liam thinks this over.  Jordan can see the thoughts turning in his head.

“So, we haven’t had a shared dream since the one when Stiles was…”

“No; the physical act… it lasts longer…”

“So you’re still gonna need to have sex, and Scott says that during a full moon the wolf can get restless, and sex is a goo…”

“No, you’re still only fifteen…”

“If it helps me control my wolf, and you need to feed, what’s wrong with us having sex when we’re mates?  Don’t you want to do what we did in those dreams?”

“Yes, bu…”

 

The rest of Jordan’s reply is cut off when Liam’s lips crash with his.  Jordan’s resistance is rapidly worn down, the incubus side of him relishing the contact and the arousal that he senses from Liam, from his mate, and he’s fully participating in the kiss; his tongue performing a tactile exploration of the boy’s mouth.

“Just kissing,” Jordan states as they briefly break apart and remember to breathe.

“Okay, no sex until the full moon,” Liam agrees and locks their lips together again, cutting off any clarification he may have intended.

 

  
  
  


 

Jordan is sitting with Liam on his lap while Stiles explains to the pack exactly what he plans to happen tonight.

 

He’s still feeling embarrassed about what happened yesterday in the nursery, and how things rapidly escalated between him and Liam.

From his objections to anything physical happening between them because of Liam’s age, to kissing, to making out, to hands exploring under clothing, to stripping each other naked, to rubbing their hard shafts against each other while their tongues battled and their hands explored every inch of exposed skin until they came.

It was at that point the pack walked in on them.

 

Logically Jordan knows that he is a sexual being, he’s an incubus after all; or at least part incubus.  But his inhuman nature is still new to him, and he clearly can be overcome with the needs of his sexual nature when faced with someone determined to have sex with him; especially if they are his mate.  Between the passion of his dragon nature and the lust of his incubus side he’s surprised he was able to limit their activity to frottage.

 

He’s still embarrassed about the pack finding them like that; especially Stiles.  

Stiles had already told him that he could have sex with anyone in the pack that consented, though the rule about the omegas and their mates still counted; but he had specifically told him that he had no intention of doing anything physical with Liam, or anyone else, who was under the age of consent.  

_ “You’re an incubus, you feed off your sexual partners’ orgasms!” Stiles replied in frustration. _

_ “Yes, but I can survive off the dreams,” he answered. _

_ “So, what, you plan to give Liam wet dreams from now until he’s eighteen?  And that law doesn’t apply anyway; he’s your mate, and that makes him your werewolf spouse.” _

_ “I don’t think that werewolf spouse counts, not yet anyway.” _

_ “It does in this Sithen.” _

_ “Stiles!  It’s still wrong, there is a right way and a wrong way of doing this!  You keep talking about werewolf spouses, but he doesn’t even KNOW ME yet.  This is hard enough…” _

_ “Then you should let Liam take care of that…” _

_ “Stiles!” _

_ “Fine, it’s your blue balls; but for the record I think you’re being an idiot.” _

 

“So,” Stiles’s voice brings him back from recalling their conversation of just two days ago, “Tonight the wolves will be playing naked hunt the alpha, except for Liam…”

“Why don’t I get to run with the pack?” Liam almost jumps out of Jordan’s lap in disappointment at not getting to spend his first full moon with the rest of the pack.

“Because it’s your first full moon, it would be safer for you to be in the Sithen where outside scents and noises can’t distract you, and where I intend to keep you distracted by Jordan and me,” Stiles replies.

“Oh.”

“So, the rest of the pack of wolves will be running around the preserve naked trying to find Derek, who will also be naked and have this vibrating ball up his ass,” Stiles holds up a three inch diameter ball, its surface covered in rounded bumps, “And his hands cuffed to a collar around his neck.  He’ll get a thirty minute start before the rest of you chase after him.  Whoever catches him gets a blow job from him, but you have to come on him not in his mouth.  Derek then gets another thirty minutes head start before the rest of you can continue to chase him.  The only way any of you get to come is from Derek’s mouth, and nobody touches Derek’s cock.  Derek, you can come, but not from anyone or anything rubbing against your cock.  Everybody clear?”

“Yes, Master,” the pack all eagerly shout in anticipation.

“Is this the second part of my punishment?” Derek asks with a grin.

“You know it Sourwolf,” Stiles smirks back before turning to Matt, “Pet, I need you to watch over the cubs until everyone is back, then you can come and join the rest of us; okay?”

“Yes, Master,” Matt says, but he clearly wants to join in the alpha hunt, or be with Liam, Jordan, and Stiles.

“Don’t worry, we’ll work out a rota of who stays with the kids on full moons; I promise it won’t always be you,” Stiles smiles at him.

 

The pack get ready for their night of fun.

 

  
  
  


 

“Sean.  Sean Walcott,” Sean hears someone call behind him.  He really doesn’t want to deal with any of the assholes from the Human First meeting, none of them would take his ideas seriously.

“I have a proposition for you that could be mutually beneficial, it would allow you to show those self-important leaders of that little group just how seriously they should take your suggestions.”

 

Sean turns around and looks at the man.

“Who are you?”

“Call me Norman, Norman Bates, but don’t worry, I’m not a total pyscho,” the man replies with a smile.

“Huh?” Sean’s confused look showing he didn’t get the reference.

“Never mind; you want to show those Human First people that you can make the people take them seriously, and I have a plan on how you can do that, and get revenge on the fairy that got you kick out of school.  Interested?”

 

Of course he was interested.

 

  
  
  


 

It’s not easy running with your hands cuffed to the back of a collar locked around your neck, your cock hard and bobbing in front of you, and a barbed vibrating ball in your ass.  The smooth rounded barbs of the ball are hitting Derek’s insides in all the right places, and the vibrations against his prostate have kept his cock hard and drooling as he scrambles through the preserve, praising his Master’s devious ingenuity for coming up with this idea.

 

They both know that the pack will be able to track the scent of his arousal through the preserve, and they both know that Stiles isn’t really punishing Derek.  Stiles never uses sex as a punishment.  This is about meeting their wolves’ needs during the full moon.  The hunt, the camaraderie of pack, and sex.

 

There’s a howl from behind and upwind of him, he sniffs the air and can tell it’s Aiden; he’s answered from a few of the pack, all behind him.  So Derek is surprised when he’s suddenly tackled to the ground, the ball jostling inside him, as someone rushes him from downwind.  The attacker gets him on his knees, the ball settling back against his prostate, and Derek finds himself looking into Scott’s alpha red eyes and grinning face.

Scott grabs Derek’s head and pulls him into a lust filled kiss.

“Goddess, I want you to knot me and fuck me into the ground,” Scott whines as he pulls back from the kiss.

“Tomorrow,” Derek growls in promise, “But for now you know our Master’s instructions.”  Scott licks along Derek’s jawline before standing in front of his mate, his own cock standing flat against his abs.  He pulls it down so that it pointing straight at Derek’s mouth and he envelops it in his lips, sucking it down to the root.

“Ahhh, Derek, fuck,” Scott shouts as his hands clamp around Derek’s head and his hips start to thrust as he fucks his mate’s mouth.  Derek’s cock is leaking copiously onto the ground below as Scott’s thrusts jerk out of rhythm as he nears his climax.  It’s Derek that needs to pull back as Scott is lost in the pleasure, his cock pulling free of Derek’s mouth just in time and he shoots his release over the kneeling alpha’s face, and neck.

“Sorry,” Scott sheepishly apologies as he wipes some of his come from Derek’s eye, “I got a little carried away.”

“Next time I’ll need to make sure you’re immobile, maybe strapped to the bed, before I give you a blowjob,” Derek deadpans.  Scott grins down at him his cock already rising to the idea.

“If you two are finished, the countdown started from the moment Scott shot his load,” Danny says from the side-lines.  They look over to see the rest of the pack, aroused and waiting.

“And I want to take Derek’s place next full moon,” Danny adds with a lascivious smile.

 

Derek gets to his feet and takes off deeper into the preserve with a laugh.

 

The next wolf to catch him is Aiden, who’s gentle and passive and allows Derek to set the pace.  He thanks Derek after he shoots his load over Derek’s chest, and Derek kisses him in return.

 

Danny is frantic and desperate, and keeps a litany running, “Goddess, Alpha, fuck, I wish we could sixty-nine, I so want to taste your cock again and feel your come filling my mouth and sliding down my throat.”  Danny’s words pulling Derek’s own release to seep into the ground as Danny adds his own to the come matting the hairs of Derek’s chest.

 

Isaac and Ethan catch him together.  He fills his mouth with first one set of little balls and cock and then the other, laving them with his tongue and pulling gasps and whimpers from them as they race towards their release.

Ethan calling ‘Alpha, alpha, alpha’ and Isaac’s cries of ‘Daddy, daddy, oh daddy’ fuelling his own arousal as much as the vibrations of the ball in his ass.

 

Jackson’s smirk vanishes as Derek licks over the head of his cocklet, his eyes becoming hooded and his head thrown back; his stance widening as his fingers entwine in Derek’s hair and he gaspingly shudders through his orgasm.

 

Each of the pack catch him again, and by the end of the night they are drained; Derek is covered in their come, and has left his own across the forest floor.

 

  
  
  


 

Stiles leads Jordan and Liam into one of the bedrooms.  Liam’s eyes are instantly drawn to the wooden and leather contraption at the foot of the bed.  It looks like a small, low, padded stool, attached to a larger raised padded table that slopes slightly downward away from the small stool.

 

“Scott tells me that you think you might be into the same sort of play as him,” Stiles says to Liam, “This is a spanking bench; think it’s something you want to try out?”

Liam’s eyes widen and his hand reaches out to stroke the leather covering the surface of the ‘bench’.  “Yes,” he quietly replies.

“What do you know about safe-words?” Stiles asks him.

“They’re a code word or series of code words that are used in BDSM for a submissive or bottom to unambiguously communicate to a dominant or top that they have or are about to cross a boundary and that they must stop,” Liam answers, glad that he looked up more than just the BDSM porno sites after his dreams started with Jordan.

“Someone’s been reading, or talking with Aiden,” Stiles grins at him.

“And Scott,” Liam adds, “He explained the traffic light colours you use,” then feeling a need to, given what he hopes is about to happen, he quickly adds with a blush colouring he cheek, “Master.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Green for everything is good, yellow for slow down or pause to talk through something, and red for absolutely stop… Master.”

“So just now what colour describes how you’re feeling?”

“Green, Master.”

“Jordan?”

“Green, Sir,” Jordan answers.

 

“Okay, here’s what I plan for tonight,” Stiles starts, “We’re all going to get naked, and then Liam is going to kneel on the bench here, and lean down on it.  Then you and I,” he says turning to Jordan, “Are going to take turns spanking him, tonight we’ll just use our hands and not any of the paddles or floggers that Scott likes so much.  Once we’ve got his ass nice and hot and red and very sore, you’re going to open up his virgin hole with your tongue and fingers; get him all nice and loose and wet.  Then you’re going to fuck him while I fuck you.”  Stiles pauses to let them think about what he’s said.  He can see the anticipation and desire on Liam’s face.  “What colour for you Liam?”

“Green, Master, very green,” he eagerly answers.

“Jordan?”

Jordan still has misgivings about doing anything with his mate while he is in high school, but he knows how aroused and desirous Liam is to experience the scene Stiles just described, and it makes part of him hungry to taste that lust, “Green, Sir,” he hesitantly replies and can see Stiles questioning his reply with his look, “It’s Green,” he adds more assuredly.

“Okay then, let’s get naked, clothes placed in the hampers,” Stiles commands.

 

Liam is kneeling down and lying on the padded leather bench, his hard cock pointing down at the floor where it’s trapped over the edge.  Stiles hands are reigning down on his upturned ass, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, alternating which cheek his palm lands on, and Jordan is kneeling in front of Liam, his hands roaming over his back as he kisses his lips, and the tears in his eyes.

“Tell me how you’re doing Liam, give me a colour?” Stiles asks as he stops the spanking, and his hands soothingly rub the reddened globes.

“Gr…green, sir,” Liam sobs.  If it wasn’t for Stiles’s power to know when someone was lying he’d be doubting Liam’s honesty given the spanking he has taken from Jordan and himself.  He slides a hand down over Liam’s dripping shaft, teasing the head, before running his fingers back up along the length to grip Liam’s swollen knot as he lands another smack to his heated ass.  Liam hisses as he shudders, his ass raising up as he shoots over the floor below.

“Time to move on to the next stage of tonight’s fun,” Stiles announces.

 

“Give me a colour,” Stiles demands of his playmates.

“Green, so green,” Liam gasps as he looks up from the bench, his eyes shifted, adding quickly as he smiles at Stiles, “Master.”

“Green, Sir,” Jordan attests, his skin faintly glowing with a hint of red that makes it look as though he’s blushing and his cock flush against his abs glistening with the flow of precum.

“Okay, Liam, I’m not gonna fasten the cuffs to your wrists, but I want you to grab hold of the cuffs on the legs of the bench and not let go.”  Liam notices the thick leather cuffs for the first time and grabs hold of them.

“Why aren’t you gonna put them on me?” he asks, “I wouldn’t mind, Master.”

“Because it’s our first time, and I didn’t ask you before we started if you were okay with being restrained, so we’ll save it for next time,” Stiles says.  “Besides,” he adds with a grin, “As it’s our first time playing together, I want to take things easy, so now Deputy Hot-Stuff here is going to kneel behind you and eat out your ass, while I open up his.”

 

As Jordan’s hands clasp onto the heated mounds of Liam’s ass and pulls the cheeks apart, his tongue pressing through the clenching ring of muscle and fucking him, Stiles’s hand comes down with a hard SMACK, SMACK, against the deputy’s ass.

“Come on hot stuff, I know my dragon can do better than that,” Stiles chides him, “That’s your mates ass your fucking with your tongue, you need to get him nice and loose and whining for your cock.”

Jordan’s reply is nothing more than a series for groans as his face presses further in the crevice between Liam’s cheeks and his tongue wets the channel in preparation as Stiles lands more SMACKS to his ass with one hand, while the fingers of his other slide into Jordan’s own heated tunnel.  Liam grips the cuffs tighter at the sounds coming from behind him, his claws piercing the leather as he raises his ass and pushes back against his mates lapping tongue.

 

Soon Jordan finds himself thrusting his hips back and forth, his cock burrowing deep into Liam’s warm supple entrance, and then sliding himself back onto Stiles’s hard thick length.

“Fuck, Jordan, fuck,” Liam shouts as he tries to keep a grip of the cuffs and push back onto Jordan’s cock.

“Come on, my dragon, make your mate come again,” Stiles cries as he smacks Jordan’s ass as his cock slides through the stretched ring of muscle.

 

It only takes a few more thrusts until all three are coming with a roar.

 

After a quick clean up Stiles has them settle on the bed, Liam between him and Jordan, for a short rest before they go to check on Matt and the babies.  He kisses them both before they snuggle together and fall asleep.

 

  
  
  


 

Somehow Scott’s expected heat hasn’t happened yet, a full week after the full moon.  It has meant it’s also been a few days since Deaton placed an intrauterine device in Scott; something that Scott found totally humiliating, and none of the other three intersex wolves are looking forward to having to go through.  With the aid of the FBI doctor, Agent Kennex, Deaton had found a version of the IUD contraceptive that worked for intersex betas.

 

So Scott had found himself naked from the waist down, laying back with his legs up, spread and held back towards his shoulders, while Kennex slide a speculum in his ass and used it to keep his hole open wide while he inserted the IUD into his cervix.  There was some pain overnight and the day after it was fitted.  He isn’t looking forward to having to do again, but that shouldn’t be needed for a few years, and at least this won’t affect him breastfeeding the babies.  

 

But, tonight is the event that everyone has been looking forward to.  It’s the school’s Winter Formal, just before they break for holidays.  Lydia and Allison have been organising and planning the event for months.  The theme is the winter solstice, and everyone is to wear mainly white and/or silver to co-ordinate with the décor inside the hall; where all the tables are covered with white or silver table cloths, and the room is interspersed with flashes of colour from the ivy, holly, and mistletoe (which they have assured the pack is at a height out of reach of anyone to ensure their safety).

 

As the Winter Formal is for juniors and seniors only, Liam and Jordan are looking after the babies for the night.  The rest of pack, are all dressed in a white tuxedo jacket and dress pants that have a silver satin stripe running along the edge of the lapel, across the pockets, and down the seam of the pants; they are also wearing white shirts, a red bowtie and glossy crimson red leather oxford shoes.  All except Jackson.

 

His knee length is a fifties style A-line dress; its white silk tulle and satin, with a flared swing skirt and an off-the-shoulder boat neckline.  The top of the dress is embroidered with an intricate silver ivy leaf motif.  The outfit is completed with white lace stockings, with matching bra and panties; and pair of red Manolo Blahnik Suede BB Pumps with a four inch heel, that match his nail varnish. 

 

When they arrive it is clear that Lydia’s meticulous attention to detail has been applied to the décor of the hall; and although most have adhered to the dress code for the evening, there are a few that haven’t.  

 

Jackson dances with Stiles, and then Danny.  Derek with Scott, and Isaac.  And Matt dances with Ethan and Aiden.  But throughout the night they eventually have danced with each other or in groups together.  They are having a great night, and all of them making out under the mistletoe.

 

Lydia is looking stressed, even though the evening is going great, and Allison is frantically trying to calm her down.

“ **No, no, no, no** ,” she repeats as she stalks towards the table with the punch bowl, where the pack are currently getting a drink.

 

There’s a commotion at the doors to the hall and Sean’s voice can be heard calling out, “ **Humans First, Death to the Freaks!** ”  A click sounds under the table; Derek pulls back the heavy linen tablecloth covering it.  Under the table is a six gallon glass carboy packed with explosives and nails.

 

Stiles acts on instinct.

“Get everybody out!” he shouts to his pack, the air in the room pushing everyone to the door, but it’s been blocked from the outside.  Everyone else is at the other end of the room where the door is, but no-one can get out.  They’re panicking and scared.

 

Stiles had to contain the explosion.  He had to make sure his pack and the rest of the people trapped in the hall with them were safe.  He remembered the Morrigan using her hand of darkness to create a barrier, a shell around her as protection against their attacks.  It’s not a hand of power he’s aware of having, but he feels the darkness respond to him.

 

His glamour drops, his wings spread out and darkness surrounds him as he had seen it do for the Morrigan; cutting him off from his pack and everyone on the other side of the barrier until the explosion sounds.

 

As the dark shell that had surrounded Stiles, and the bomb, shatters after the explosion, Stiles collapses to the floor, his wings ripped and his body pierced by bloodied nails.

 

“ **STILES!** ” Lydia screams.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-26
> 
> Rafe turns the TV off and faces Peter.  
> “Sean Walcott, didn’t you meet with him a few days back?” Rafe questions the wolf.  
> “Ah, yes, I talked with him about his involvement with Humans First, they weren’t very impressed with him. I wonder what they think of him now, having put all those humans in danger.”  
> “I know we both wanted Stiles away from the pack, for our own very different reasons, but what you did…”  
> “What I did?! I didn’t plant a nail bomb under a table in a school hall…”  
> “No, you duped some poor kid into doing it for you. You didn’t just nearly the fae, you could have killed Scott too. And that fae showed more humanity than you… you psycho!”  
>   
> Rafe’s words are cut off as Peter launches himself at the man and grabs him by the neck, pushing him up against the wall.  
> “You need to remember who you’re talking to, I’m the one that got you out of Eichen House. I’m the one who is willing to help get everyone free of the fae’s influence. I’m the one who’s the real alpha of that pack!”  
>   
> 
> 
> ««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»
> 
>   
> The pack had known Scott’s heat was approaching, and even that morning had commented on the change in his scent. Stiles suggested that maybe he should stay home, but Scott insisted that he’d be able to get through the day before his biology took over.
> 
> “Fuck!” Scott swore, “No, no, ngh… aaargghh!”  
> They were in the locker room after lacrosse practice, showering and changing to head home.  
> “Please,” Scott pleaded from the floor where he was crawling to the bench, his ass and thighs wet with slick his legs spread as the wanton need flared within him. The moist ring of his ass lips presented to the room. Luckily only the pack were still there when Scott’s heat struck.
> 
> “Scott,” Stiles sternly called, angry at himself rather than at Scott for not insisting that he stayed home, “Can you make it home before you need fucked?”  
> “No, please, Master I need… I want Derek, please,” Scott begs.  
> “Derek isn’t here,” Stiles sees the expectant looks on the faces of the rest of the pack. Each of the betas lust being fuelled by the scent of Scott’s need filling the room. He needs to dampen things down, and now; before the locker room becomes the scene of a werewolf orgy.  
>   
> 
> 
> ««««««««««««««««««««««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»
> 
> #### Note:
> 
>   
> As I am out of town next week for a family event I won't have access to my pc; so, Chapter-26 will be posted on Friday 14th August. Sorry for the delay.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> And for their help in rewording some of the scenes so that my intention for the scenes were more effectively met.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

 

“We’re receiving reports that members of the Humans First movement have carried out a bombing attack at a Beacon Hills High School, where the annual seniors and juniors winter formal was taking place, attended by both human and supernatural students of the school.”

 

Rafe glances up at the TV news report and then across to Peter relaxing on the other bed in their flea pit of a motel room; the self-satisfying smirk the wolf wears chills him.  He moves to the end of his bed and sits watching the newscast.

“You had something to do with this didn’t you?” he asks the wolf, not expecting a straight answer.

“Me?!” Peter responds, the sarcasm dripping from his tone, “Now why… would I… have carried out a bomb attack for a hate group working against supernatural beings like myself?” 

 

“Reports suggest that the number of people injured in the attack were minimised by the response of one individual,” the reporter continues, “A Stiles Stilinski, a supernatural student at the school, who shielded everyone else from the blast.  The following footage has been put together from video shot using cameras on cell-phones by students who were present.”

 

The video shows a hall decked out in flowing white and silver, broken only by the well placed garlands of ivy, holly, and mistletoe.  There’s students laughing and dancing

“ **Humans First, Death to the Freaks!** ” someone shouts and the camera pans around to the face of Sean Walcott.

“Dude, what are you doing?!” another student shouts as the double door that Sean bolted through won’t open.  There’s a call of, “ **There’s a bomb!** ”  Then panic ensues as several students press against the door.

“ **Oh my God?!  What’s happening?** ” a girls voice calls out.

The video switches and zooms in to show Stiles, his human features melting away as his fae mien is revealed; his wings spread-out, the white, silver, and copper flecked among the black reflecting the light from the room.  Suddenly there’s a flock of what look like ravens flocking around him and the blackness of them solidifies into a black shell cordoning off the other half of the hall.  There’s a thudding noise off camera and it pans around to see students still trying to break through the door.

“ **Out of the way!** ” is growled and the students spread apart from the door as a wolfed out Derek Hale barrels towards the door; he knocks the doorframe out of the wall.  The explosion is heard and camera pans back as people scream in terror.

 

The black shield wall shatters into a thousand ravens that fade as shrapnel from the bomb shred Stiles’s outstretched wings, the metal and glass fragments embedding themselves in his arms and body.  A rushing of air can be heard holding back the full extent of the material thrown out by the explosion, until Stiles collapses.

“ **STILES!** ” is heard from a piercing scream off camera.

 

The news report cuts back to the studio.

“Most of the students were able to escape from the explosion thanks to the werewolf, who we’ve been informed is Alpha Derek Hale.  While we have been unable to talk to Mr Hale himself, we have Jessica Williams live at the scene to talk to some of the students that were present for the attack.”

 

“Yes, I’m here outside Beacon Hills High School and I have one of the students who was inside the hall when bomb exploded, Stacey Caldwell; Stacey can you tell us, in your own words, what happened tonight?”

“It, oh my god, it was horrible, everyone was screaming and trying to get outside, but I guess Sean had blocked them somehow, because no one could leave; but, I mean, like, thank god we have werewolves at the school because they managed to break the doors down, and Stiles, he turned into like an angel or something and he somehow created a black wall between us and the bomb, but he was on the other side of it and then when the bomb went off…” she starts to cry as she continues, “The other werewolves were trying to shield everyone… and then the black wall broke and pieces of metal came flying at us… and we could see Stiles…  he was all bloody and cut with all these bits of metal and stuff sticking in him… and when he collapsed the werewolves all rushed to help him despite their own injuries, and they just started taking the nails and bits of metal out of him…”

“They were removing the nails before the paramedics arrived?”

“Yeah, they said it was iron and would stop him healing, so they were like crying and praying for him to live as they pulled them out and threw them away.  You should have seen it though, one of nails hit me and when it did there was this smell of flowers and the gash on my leg, where some of the metal from the explosion hit me, was healed.  I saw other people pick up some the nails and everything was smelling like flowers, and everyone who picked up a nail was healed too, even if it didn’t cut them… but then the FBI arrived and they took Stiles and the werewolves away and collected all the other nails.  But I’ve still got mine.  Stiles saved me, he protected us and I’m keeping my nail as a reminder of what he did for us.”

 

Rafe turns the TV off and faces Peter.

“Sean Walcott, didn’t you meet with him a few days back?” Rafe questions the wolf.

“Ah, yes, I talked with him about his involvement with Humans First, they weren’t very impressed with him.  I wonder what they think of him now, having put all those humans in danger.”

“I know we both wanted Stiles away from the pack, for our own **very** different reasons, but he’s a hero now because of what you did…”

“ **What I did?!**   I didn’t plant a nail bomb under a table in a school hall…”

“No, you duped some poor kid into doing it for you.  You didn’t just nearly kill the fae, you could have killed Scott too.  And that fae has shown more humanity than you… you psycho!”

 

Rafe’s words are cut off as Peter launches himself at the man and grabs him by the neck, pushing him up against the wall.

“You need to remember who you’re talking to, I’m the one that got you out of Eichen House.  I’m the one who is willing to help get everyone free of the fae’s influence.  I’m the one who’s the real alpha of that pack!”

While Peter is snarling in his face, Rafe carefully stretches out his hand towards the tray on the table next to him.  On the tray, with the remnants of his steak dinner is the knife.  His fingers grab knife and he quickly plunges it into Peter’s chest.  As Peter staggers back Rafe pulls back the blade and stabs repeatedly into the wolf’s throat.

 

With Peter lying bleeding out on the floor Rafe walks over to the telephone and dials.

“Hanscum?  It’s Rafe McCall.  I think I’ve just killed Peter Hale.  We’re at the motel off the interstate just outside of Beacon Hills; he checked us in under the names Norman Bates and Dylan Massett.”

 

  
  
  


 

Sean Walcott didn’t deny the attack.  He celebrated it.  Going so far as stating that “Every real American would stand up and stop these freaks from destroying the morals of decent Americans, and stop them from taking our opportunities from us”.

 

‘Humans First’ denounced the attack; stating that Sean was not acting in any capacity as of one of their members; going so far as to states that they were peaceful group merely seeking to advocate that humans should not be disadvantaged by the inhuman abilities that supernatural possess.  The damage had already been done and support for the new group diminished in light of the attack, though many hard-core members remained.

 

Most of the news coverage was dominated by the fact that it was the werewolves and fae at the high school that had put themselves between the explosion and human students.  There were still some who took to social media to exclaim “Ha, if these freaks are all so stupid that they put themselves in front of the bomb they’ll be easier to get rid of than I thought!”  But the response from the majority of people was positive, with them seeing the actions of Stiles and the pack as heroism and a willingness of ‘non-humans’ to help and protect their human classmates.

 

Within Congress there was a push by certain members of both the Senate and the House of Representatives for the Accords to be voted on; using the attack as evidence that the rights of the supernatural to protection under the law was needed.  The vote is close, but S.3115 – The Supernatural Rights Act – secures the vote it needs and is passed; the Independence Accords are enacted.

 

  
  
  


 

It’s a week after the bombing and Stiles is still healing.  Between his nightflyer genetics and the pack connection he has healed far quicker than either Kennex or Deaton expected, but they are both still checking on him every day.

 

For the first two days after the attack he wasn’t conscious for their prodding and probing.  Though he’s been told that for the first day and a half he was in the medical facility at the FBI office.  The pack had remained there with him.  It was only after he’d healed enough to satisfy both Deaton and Kennex that he was no-longer in danger that the pack and his dad were allowed to bring him back to the Sithen.  His healing then really started to kick in with him waking about half a day later; in pain.

 

The pack remained close with all of the wolves leeching the pain away, until the “specifically prescribed for supernatural creatures” painkillers from Kennex kicked in.  But this near constant bed rest means he’s getting cranky; there is only one week until the holidays and he hasn’t bought everyone’s presents yet.  Not that he could just pop down to the mall to shop for gifts anyway with the attention the pack is getting from the press.  The snooping paparazzi are making the whole pack edgy, which is why he’s asked Agent Hanscum to meet with him.

 

“There has to be something you can do?” Stiles asks her, “I’m worried about my pack’s safety.” And he is; he’s sure it’s contributing to the delay of Scott’s heat, and his heat being delayed wasn’t a good thing last time.  “Only Lydia and Allison have been able to attend school without the constant legion of photographers and reporters chasing after them, at least they’re not being hounded to quite the same level; and they’re making life, and work, hell for my dad and Scott’s mom.”

“There is very little I can do…” Hanscum starts to reply.

“But there’s something?” Stiles presses.

“Only if they trespass on private property or on school grounds,” she replies, “And as far as I’m aware they haven’t done so, yet.”

“And when they do?” Stiles presses, “Because you know they will.”

“Right now they are being annoying, but they have done nothing illegal.  When they have broken the law then your father can arrest them himself, unless your request for council sovereignty has been approved in which case I will.”

 

  
  
  


 

“Does it worry you the way so many of them look to you?” Greenburg asks Stiles out of nowhere one morning.  Stiles was getting his books for English from his locker at the time and Greenburg was just suddenly there.

 

He had noticed a change in the way some of his fellow students looked at him.  For one they actually looked him, they noticed him.  But he just put that down to the attention from the media because of the attack at the school dance, and that maybe they were a little wary of him.  Not that he thought they’d do anything other than stare at him.

“Why should it worry me?  I don’t think they’re likely to be a threat like Sean was.” He answers.

 

“No, they’re not that kind of threat,” Greenburg cryptically answers, “You have noticed what some of them are wearing, right?”

“What they’re wearing?” Stiles frowns at him.

“Take a look at the ring on Stacey’s finger,” Greenburg pointedly said, “Really look at it.”

“It’s a silver ring,” Stiles says looking at it; it was fairly plain, and as he looked he could see an additional strip of metal around the centre of the band, “Wait, is that…?”

“One of the iron nails that was removed from your body, yeah,” Greenburg confirms, “Her boyfriend had one as well, he wears it on a leather lace around his neck; as do the other three guys that have one, and the girls all wear them on their third finger of their left hand.”

“The girls?”

“Yeah, there’s five girls and four guys have silver rings with the iron nails soldered to them; nine rings in total.  Quite Tolkien of them, but I think it has more to do with the fact the FBI managed to recover the rest and had them destroyed.  Then again, it has led to these nine believing they are the chosen; which has probably got something to do with them all smelling the roses…”

“What?!” Stiles quickly looks across the hall and realises his outburst has gotten more of Stacey and her boyfriend’s attention; they’re slowly making their way over.  Stiles drags Greenburg towards what he hopes is an empty classroom.

 

“Is something wrong?” he hears Stacey ask from behind him.

“No, nothing wrong, Stacey” Stiles waves at them to stay back, “I just need to have a private word with Greenburg here, you and Chris don’t need to get involved,” Stiles is sure the boyfriend’s name is Chris, he’s seen it on the list of the swim team members.

“He knows my name!” he hears the elated exclamation from Chris and Stacey as he closes the door behind him, and he feels a sudden rush of power.

“What the fuck?!” he all but yells at Greenburg, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout at you, but… what the fuck?”

 

“You’re their saviour and protector; didn’t you see the interviews on news.  They were very appreciative of everything you and your werewolves did to protect them,” Greenburg says as he sits on the edge of one of the desks; Stiles sits across from him.

“But she said in the interview the nail was just a souvenir, what’s with the awe?”

“When the supernatural started being noticed several little groups started looking into whatever they could find about their favourite, werewolf, fae, vampire.  But that little Cult of Stiles; that started when they realised that they were the only ones that had been healed by your blood from the nails…”

“But it can’t have been my blood, it doesn’t work like that; if they smelled roses it was the Goddess, not my blood that healed them.  And vampires don’t exist.”

“Through you, or through your blood.”  Greenburg explains; ignoring the fact that vampires don’t exist.

“What?”

“That’s what the Brides and Consorts of Stiles, as you little cult call themselves, have concluded.  That the Goddess, through you, her chosen on Earth, healed them with your blood.  That you are the reincarnation of Nuada the god of…”

“WHAT?!”

“He was a sidhe once worshipped as a god of healing, childbirth, youth, beauty, dogs, and magic, etcetera; you get the picture…”

“But I’m descended from Nodens…”

“Which is just the Anglo-Celtic name for Nuada.”

“Why do they even think…”

“Healing fairly obvious given events, they know thanks to Jackson’s adoptive parents about the children, so childbirth, they know that sidhe are if not immortal at least long lived, so youth and beauty, you stay with a pack of werewolves, and Matt is a dog of some sort, so dogs; so I need to go on?”

“No, but I am not a god…”

“You might not have a choice in that.”

 

Greenburg rises from the desk, and walks out the door.  Stiles is too lost in his thoughts and worries to notice.

 

  
  
  


 

The pack had known Scott’s heat was approaching, and even that morning had commented on the change in his scent.  Stiles suggested that maybe he should stay home, but Scott insisted that he’d be able to get through the day before his biology took over.

 

“Fuck!” Scott swore, “No, no, ngh… aaargghh!”

They were in the locker room after lacrosse practice, showering and changing to head home.

“Please,” Scott pleaded from the floor where he was crawling to the bench, his ass and thighs wet with slick his legs spread as the wanton need flared within him.  The moist ring of his ass lips presented to the room.  Luckily only the pack were still there when Scott’s heat struck.

 

“Scott,” Stiles sternly called, angry at himself rather than at Scott for not insisting that he stayed home, “Can you make it home before you need fucked?”

“No, please, Master I need… I want Derek, please,” Scott begs.

“Derek isn’t here,” Stiles sees the expectant looks on the faces of the rest of the pack.  Each of the betas lust being fuelled by the scent of Scott’s need filling the room.  He needs to dampen things down, and now; before the locker room becomes the scene of a werewolf orgy.

“Okay.  Everyone except Isaac get to the jeep and impala.  Isaac and I will take care of things here so we can get him home and fuck him into the mattress.”

 

“ **Please** , **fuck me** ,” Scott shouts as everyone quickly moves to obey Stiles’s order.

“Help me get him over the bench,” Stiles instructs Isaac.  

They manoeuvre him so that he’s kneeling across it, his hard five inches bobbing in the air as it leaks over the floor, his smooth skin flush with the need his heat has created.

“Next time I suggest to stay home when you’re heat is coming and your scent has changed maybe you’ll listen,” Stiles says as he spreads Scott’s legs further apart, “Then you could have been being knotted by your mate by now.”  He thrusts his hard length into the gaping ring in one rapid push.

“Isaac, why don’t you chew on his nipples while I put out the fire in his lions; for now at least.”

The curly haired wolf quickly pulls one of Scott’s nipples between his lips and nips at the sensitive flesh with his teeth; Scott’s hands grasping onto Isaac’s shoulders for support as Stiles pounds into him, pulling out until the lips of his ass are clenching around the head of Stiles’s cock before he thrusts back into him and his pelvis slaps against Scott’s cheeks.

 

Scott mewls wantonly as Isaac’s teeth scrape over one of his nipples and pinches at his other nipple with his fingers, and Stiles thick tumescence hammers over his prostate; between them his body is flooded with the painful pleasure he craves.  His ring of muscle clenches tightly around the head of Stiles’s cock each time it threatens to leave his hole empty.  His own hard cock is bobbing between his thighs, slapping against his abs in time to the pounding he’s receiving from his master.

 

With the relentless pounding of the sensitive pleasure spot inside him and the biting stimulation to his nipples, Scott is soon coating the bench and the locker room floor with his release; the tight clenching of his ass lips around Stiles’s cock pulling his seed deep inside him.  Scott slumps against Isaac, the pair kissing as Stiles pulls out of Scott’s ass, the slick and cum leaking down the back of Scott’s thighs.

“That’s not gonna keep you sated until we get home is it?” Stiles asks.

“Maybe?” Scott meekly replies.

“Isaac, check the corridor; see if we have a clear path to the parking lot,” Stiles orders as he cleans himself up and pulls his underwear and pants back up; while Scott is still resting against the bench, his naked body covered in sweat, slick and cum.

“It’s mostly clear, but there are still some students and teachers around, and the janitors,” Isaac says as he rushes back into the room.

“Okay, Scott, get your pants on; Isaac, pack the rest of his clothes and his sneakers into his backpack.  We’re gonna run to the cars, and hope I can cloak us enough that people don’t notice the…”

“Please, I need Derek,” Scott whines, his heat already starting to rise again.

“You shouldn’t need fucked again already?!” Stiles states in confusion, “Okay, Isaac, get his clothes packed up and out to the cars.  I’ll bring him.” 

Isaac’s eyes widen in shock at the idea of Scott being parade through school naked, with slick and cum covering his thighs and ass, but he quickly obeys his master.

 

Stiles hooks one of Scott’s arms over his shoulder and pulls him to his feet.  He then wills his magic to hide them as he half drags the whimpering needy wolf through the schools corridors, his slick flowing from his ass, and his hard cock bobbing and dripping in front.  The humans don’t appear to notice them as they make their way to the parking lot.

 

“Okay,” Stiles says when he gets them to the cars, “Jackson, Isaac, and Liam with me, everyone else in the Impala.  Liam get your pants off and sit in the back, you’re fucking Scott on the way home.  Jackson in front beside me, Isaac in the back with Scott and Liam.”  Liam looks shocked; when he doesn’t move Stiles barks, “Hop to it, we need to get home and take care of Scott’s heat,” Liam quickly shucks off his pants and underwear and jumps into the jeep.”  Stiles turns to Danny, “Call Deaton and ask him if the IUD could be affecting Scott’s heat, he seems to need a lot more taking care of than is normal; he came in the locker room and already he needs taken again.”

“So Isaac said when he was putting the bags in the trunk,” Danny replies, “I’ll call Deaton while Aiden drives us home.”

 

Scott is sitting on Liam’s lap in the back of the jeep, raising himself up and down on his young beta’s hard length.  The scent of Scott’s need had quickly firmed Liam’s shaft, and the heat soon had Scott writhing on his cock.

Jackson and Isaac quickly jump into the front and back of the jeep while Stiles gets in and drives them out of the school grounds and hopes they get home before they are arrested for engaging in lewd conduct in a public place, he’s not sure what the outcome would be given the fact that all minors; legally it seems to be a grey area in California, but he doesn’t want to push it.

 

They get out of the built up area and on to the road leading to preserve; all the while Scott is moaning and grinding back on Liam’s cock, his hands braced against the roof as he rides up and down and Liam’s hands hold tightly on his hips.

 

“Oh, oh, fuck, oh, fuck,” Liam chants.  Scott’s hole is clenching around him, it’s hot and wet and feels so good.  He can’t help but think back to when Jordan was fucking him when he was over the spanking bench and wonder if his ass felt as good to Jordan as Scott’s does to him.  He can imagine Jordan fucking him while he’s fucking Scott, the way Stiles fucked Jordan as Jordan fucked him.  He groans at the thought, pulling Scott down on his cock as his hips jerk up thrusting into the hot wet hole; the carnal need taking control of him, and Scott’s ass lips catching on the base of his cock until he can’t pull out.  Suddenly, Scott is spraying his cum over the back of the seats and the floor of the jeep as he clenches around Liam’s knot.

“Ah, ah, fuck!” Liam yelps as he floods Scott’s ass, “Fuck, I thought wolves only knotted with their mates!  Scott’s not my mate, how..?” he shouts in panic; a blissed out Scott flopping against him, his head rolling back onto Liam’s shoulder.

“What?!” Isaac cries, “They do; you can’t be tied to him!”

“Trust me, I am.  I just don’t know how.  Scott’s not my mate.  Only Jordan’s my mate,” Liam replies with a mix of concern, confusion, and certainty.

“We’re nearly home,” Stiles says, keep his voice even and free from the anxiety he was internalising, “We’ll figure out what’s going on when we get there.”

 

  
  
  


 

Arriving back at the Sithen they receive answers to their questions.

 

Danny had talked to Deaton, and Derek, on the drive back.  The reason for quick resurgence of Scott’s heat after Stiles had fucked him was due to Stiles not having a knot.  Something that they hadn’t noticed previously as during Scott’s last heat he was exclusively with Derek, and each of the others had been spent with a group where either their mate, or the mate of the beta fucking them was involved so they were tied frequently during their heat.

 

Derek had found Jordan passed out in the den while, a dark stain on the front of his pants.  It seems that Liam’s knot forming was due to him linking to his mate while fucking Scott, and as an incubus’s mate that mental bond was as good as a physical connection.  So no matter who Liam is having sex with, if he imagines Jordan it will connect them, allowing Jordan to experience and feed off the sexual release that Liam is having, and Liam’s knot will form.

 

  
  
  


 

Scott’s sitting in the nursery, Michael nursing at his nipple.  His heat broke overnight, and most of the last three days is hazy.

 

_ He’s being held face down, his legs spread wide and his mouth around Isaac’s cock and balls as Derek pounds into his ass.  As his alpha thrusts into his wet hole and one hand holds him tight at his hips, Derek’s other hand smacks against his ass cheeks in time to the pounding against his prostate.  The spanking and fucking building to a frantic pace until he feels his ass lips pulled and tugged as Derek’s knot locks them together. _

 

_ Jackson’s stocking clad legs are wrapped around him and pulling Danny flush against his back.  As he pushes into Jackson’s slicked ass he pulls himself off Danny’s hard length.  He thrusts back and forth, pushing himself onto Danny and thrusting back into Jackson.  He leans forward and locks his lips with Jackson’s, as over them Danny takes the head of Stiles’s cock between his lips, and his knot swells in Scott’s ass. _

 

_ His nipples are clamped and the chain connecting them is intertwined with a similar chain linking the clamps biting into Liam’s nipples.  Liam’s face is scrunched in pleasure and pain as he pushes back on Jordan’s cock, fucking himself, and then pushes forward driving his own cock into Scott’s waiting hole; every move tugging on the chains connected to the clamps, making them bite and twist at their nipples. _

 

_ Aiden slams into him, his thrusts hurried and jerky with excitement.  Scott’s eyes flutter as he looks past Matt’s cock, his lips tightly holding the head as his tongue presses against the slit, and watches as Ethan slides down on his own stiff prick.  Aiden kisses the back of Ethan’s neck as Matt leans over takes Ethan’s lips with his own. _

_ Matt slides his cock down Scott’s throat, as Aiden’s knot swells and tugs at his hole, and Ethan fucks himself on his hard length. _

 

“So, I guess your um… heat is over,” Scott looks up to see Liam blushing where he stands in the doorway in just a pair of boxer shorts.  Scott just threw on a pair of sleep pants when he slid out of the bed carefully avoiding waking anyone.

“Yeah,” he smiles at the beta.

“What can I do to help?” 

“There’s some bottles of milk from the fridge sitting in warm water over there, they should be ready to go.  I think Koni might have a tantrum if he’s not fed next.”

As Liam sits next to Scott with Anakoni and begins to feed him, the rest of the pack start to filter in through the door and begin feeding and the babies.  

 

“So,” Liam starts, blushing furiously, “Is every heat like the last three days?”

“Pretty much,” Jackson answers from the other side of Scott, where he’s sitting with Leilani suckling at his nipple.

“I feel totally fucked…” Liam 

“I was the one totally fucked,” Scott scoffs at him.

“I mean, I thought with werewolf stamina I wouldn’t feel this tired.”

“With his last heat I slept for nearly twenty four hours straight after it ended,” Derek recounts, he’s sitting across from Scott with Lucas in his arms feeding from one of the bottles.

“I’m surprised I didn’t need as much sleep again,” Scott adds; Michael has finished feeding and he’s resting against Scott’s shoulder as he gently rubs his back, “I mean you got some rest while…”  Scott quickly shuts up at Derek’s growl; the rest of the pack try to hide their laughter at Scott’s surprised expression, Derek included.

“I for one feel great,” Jordan chirpily adds.

“Ha!  It’s hardly surprising that the incubus feels totally refreshed and full of energy after a three day orgy,” Stiles teases, “His heat was like an all you can eat buffet for you.”

 

Eventually all seventeen of the pack’s babies have been fed, burped, cleaned and changed.

“This is definitely easier and quicker with everyone here than when it’s just been Jordan and me,” Derek comments.

“And there’s less complaining from the little ones,” Jordan adds.

“Speaking of quicker,” Stiles cuts in, “We need to be a little quicker, and by little I mean a lot, quicker and get ourselves fed, cleaned and changed.  Derek and I have an appointment in town at the FBI, well Marshall’s office now I guess.”

“About what?” Jackson asks.

“We’ll be able to tell you more when we get back,” Stiles answers before Derek can speak.  Clearly their Master doesn’t want to tell the pack about the call he received during Scott’s heat; the one telling him that Peter was dead.

 

  
  
  


 

Stiles, Derek, Boyd, and Cora are all sitting in an office, on the other side of the desk sits Special Supervisory Deputy United States Marshal Hanscum.

 

There are two reasons everyone is here.  The first has been dealt with; informing the alphas of the two werewolf packs within Beacon Hills and the town officials, that the Stilinski-Hale pack has been granted Council Sovereignty over Beacon Hills.  The fact that the land belongs to the Hale pack had left no other option than for their request to be granted.  The Mayor and town officials have been escorted out after Stiles informed them that he would be in contact soon.

 

“Okay, so the second part of why we’re all here normally wouldn’t have anything to do with my office.  The execution of Peter Hale’s last will and testimony.  I am involved however as the named executor is also deceased, and because two werewolf packs are affected,” Hanscum evenly states, “The will states that the goods and estate of Peter Hale is to be split evenly between his surviving family members.”  She stops talking at the low angry growl coming from Derek.  Stiles swats his arm and he quickly controls himself.

 

“I realise that there is some bad blood between the deceased and his remaining family, but if I can continue,” Hanscum looks pointedly at Derek, “The will makes reference to bearer bonds, and several freehold properties within town.”

 

Neither Cora nor Derek want anything from Peter’s estate.  Stiles convinces Cora to take one of the properties for her, Boyd and Erica to live in, and for the rest to be sold and the proceeds split between her and Derek.  The bearer bonds he convinces them to reinvest in Beacon Hills.

“There’s gonna be a lot of unhappy people when they find out we’ve been granted Sovereignty.  Some will want to move themselves, their families and businesses out of town; we can use the bearer bonds to keep the town functioning until things settle down.  I’m sure more supernatural people will move in to replace the humans that leave.”

 

They both agree.

 

  
  
  


 

Stiles meeting with the Mayor and councilmembers was short, but stressful.  They seemed under the impression that they would still have a right to veto any legislative changes he ‘proposed’.  It didn’t sit well with them when he bluntly explained to them they were wrong; he wouldn’t be ‘proposing’ changes, he would proclaim them.  The only right of veto was his, not the city’s councilmembers’ and not the Mayor’s.  By the end of the meeting a third of the councilmembers had resigned, unwilling to remain where they saw their power and influence ‘undermined by the whims of a… child’.  He’s sure they were going somewhere else with that line of thought; until they thought better of it.

 

Now he’s glad to be home with his pack, able to relax and enjoy himself with them.

 

  
  
  


 

Jackson is wearing a blue lace babydoll and matching thong as he sits astride Danny’s hips.  The thin strip of lace a the back of the thong pulled to the side as he slides up and down on Danny’s hard shaft.  Danny is lying on his back on the bed, his head hanging over the side as Stiles slides his own hard length between Danny’s lips; the beta wolf’s hands holding onto to Stiles’s bare ass and pulling him deeper into his throat.

 

Stiles looks across to the other side of the bed and sees a similar scene with Scott lying on his back as Isaac rides his cock and Derek feeds his own shaft between Scott’s lips.  His knot swelling and Scott’s tongue swiping over the distension whenever it’s in reach.  While Jackson’s little hard cock is barely visible in the confines of the lace thong, Isaac’s little nub is hard and sticking out as far as it can as he bounces with abandon on Scott’s prick.

 

Aiden is on his back across the leather padded bench.  The rope looped through the D-ring on his collar is tied to the base of the bench, keeping his head in place.  His arms are pulled down on either side of the bench and his wrists are cuffed to the bottom of the legs, as are his legs and ankles.  Ethan’s cock and balls are in his mouth while Matt is fucking himself on Aiden’s cock, freed from the cock cage.  Matt whines into Ethan’s mouth as they kiss and he comes over Aiden’s chest and abs as his mate’s knot pulls at his rim.

 

The sight sends Liam over the edge.  He’s been sitting impaled in Jordan’s shaft as the half-dragon slowly jerked on his cock and leisurely rocked his hips back and forth.

 

Stiles himself comes with a shout and pulls out of Danny’s mouth, his mate whines at the loss as he receives a facial.  Danny grabs hold of Jackson’s hips and pulls him down hard, his knot locking them together.  The sudden pressure making Jackson clench tightly as he floods the pouch of his thong.

 

Scott’s hands are around Derek’s knot squeezing and rubbing the swollen flesh as Derek unloads his release down Scott’s throat.  Isaac has stilled his movements on Scott’s dick as his little cocklet spray’s his watery cum over Scott’s stomach.

 

The pack take a short rest, but it isn’t the end of the fun Stiles has planned for the night.

 

Aiden’s still tied to the bench on his back, but his wrists are now cuffed to the back of his collar.  His legs have been raised up and roped threaded through the ankle cuffs and tied to the rings in the bench beside his head.  His ass open and exposed.

There’s a metal cuff fastened around his scrotum, trapping his balls stretched below it, and a rope tied to the O-Ring in the cuff and pulled down and tied off on the base of the bench.

Stiles is running a pin wheel up and down the length of Aiden’s hard cock; Matt is balanced precariously with his ass over Aiden’s mouth while the bound wolf eats his own cum from his mate’s ass.

 

Scott and Liam are lying on their backs, ass to ass, on the bed.  Their knees bent with their feet flat on the bed; Liam’s right foot tied to Scott’s left, and Liam’s left foot tied to Scott’s right.  Each has a vibrating butt plug in their ass.

There are clamps biting into their nipples and a chain running from the one on Scott’s left nipple to his right, and the similar chain connects the ones on Liam’s.  There’s a length of rawhide running from the centre of each chain to an eyelet in the ceiling and down where it is tied around the centre of a candle dangling over Scott’s and Liam’s cock and balls.

The candle is lit at both ends and spins and swings and drips its molten wax over them with each jerk of their bodies from the heat of the wax, the buzzing in their asses, and the biting tug on their nipples.  Each exacerbating the glassy-eyed pleasure pain of the other until the both come with a roar.

 

By the end of the evening every member of the pack is sweaty, cum soaked, and very tired and sated wolf and changeling; only Jordan is fully of energy, his incubus side will fed from the pleasurable night’s activities.

 

The pack curl up together on the bed, ignoring the cum drying to their skin; they’ll shower in the morning.

 

  
  
  


 

Stiles felt it calling to him, he had to go to his Nemeton.

 

The pack didn’t let him go alone.  They were all standing beside him as they walked down into the cavernous cellar of the abandoned home where the roots of the tree had grown into, and fortified, the structure.  Derek on his left, hand on his shoulder, Danny on his right, arm around his waist.  Scott, Jackson, Isaac and the rest of the pack all standing in close contact with their mates.

 

The air crackles with power and the crown appears.

“Take it, Sire,” Drazin calls from the side.

“But I don’t want to rule the Unseelie or Seelie Court!” Stiles protests, looking over at his advisor.

“We’re not in Unseelie or Seelie lands, it isn’t their crown, Sire,” Drazin replies.

 

Stiles reaches out a hand, his fingers grasp around the crown and it settles on his head.  The air becomes oppressive with command.

“All Hail, King Tighearnach of the Sith Court of Beacon Hills,” Drazin says as he kneels.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Still to come in the Pack Master Series
> 
> ####  Pack Life #1 Excerpt
> 
> He’s kneeling at the bottom of the bed, his legs spread wide by the bar cuffed to his ankles, and tied firmly to the corners of the bed’s base. His torso is stretched up towards the headboard, his arms pulled tightly over his head and the cuffs around his wrists tied to top corners of the bed by the lengths of rope. There’s drool running down his chin from around the ball gag in his mouth.  
>   
> His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and he tries to shake it loose, but that only jingles the chain linked between the cock ring around his balls and hard shaft, and the clamps biting in to his nipples; it makes them pull painfully on the abused nubs and his cock jumps at the sensation. He’s been played with and teased for hours and not allowed to cum.  
>   
> 
> 
> #### Gods of War (Pack Master #6) Excerpt
> 
> A peel of thunder rolls loud and heavy over the night sky. The crack of the flash of lightning striking hard and fast down upon the ground.  
> Greenburg sits bolt upright in his bed, his eyes wide and black. The words fall quickly from his tongue before he passes out.  
>   
> “Anois a thagann an Déithe Cogaidh, atá leagtha scaoilte ar an domhain.”  
>   
> 
> 
> #### Untitled (Pack Master #5) Excerpt
> 
> Michael and Lucas are lying on the floor of the nursery, their feet kicking absently in the air and their tongues sticking out of the side of their mouths with a crease between their eyebrows as they focus on the colouring of the pictures in front of them. Both of them are a mirror image of their oma-Isaac who is lying across from them concentrating on his own colouring book. Oma-Isaac is their favourite oma, after their oma.  
>   
> “NO! Oma-Isaac, tigers not blue; tigers are orange!” Michael suddenly wails spotting the blue crayon in Isaac’s hand as he colours the tiger picture in front of him.  
> “I want to make mine blue,” Isaac replies continuing to colour the picture with the blue crayon, “Make it scary looking.”  
> “Me too,” Lucas says putting down his orange crayon and picking up a blue one and colouring over the orange he had started with. Josh, Laura, and Dermot, all quickly copy their oma, picking different colours to make their tiger.  
> “Mines will be green,” Josh announces.  
> “Mine is red,” says Laura.  
> “Mine is all black,” Dermot smiles as grabs the black crayon.  
>   
> Michael’s frown deepens. They’re four now and should be colouring the tigers properly. Like he is. There aren’t any scary blue, green, red, or black tigers. Tigers are orange and black. He saw them when they went to the zoo with his daddy and oma, and oma-Isaac was there too.  
>   
> Isaac looks across at Michael, and he it strikes him how much like his daddy he is when his eyebrows scrunch together when he frowns.  
>   
> 

**Author's Note:**

> \---------------
> 
> There are several stories I am working on. So please comment if this is one that you like; comments help me focus when I'm being pulled in different directions by thoughts jumping from one story to another.


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